#and he uses that as a reference for his other pieces until he's confident enough to do it without first sketching merlin

[leslie-lyman]

Menagerie

Part of the Euclidean Geometry ‘verse

Summary: Early on in their relationship, when everything is new and exciting and uncertain, Pero introduces their girl to his work as a glass artist.

Pairing: modern!Pero Tovar x Frankie x Jack x nameless!OFC/f!reader (written in third person, reader is only referred to as she/her, with no physical descriptors)

Word count: 3.9k

Rating: Explicit 🚨 absolutely no minors!

Warnings: smut; mentions of sex between everyone in this polycule (Frankie x Jack x Pero x reader), but the actual smut is just Pero x reader; unprotected PIV; completely unregulated POV switching; that thing where I write all the dialogue in italics instead of using quotation marks because it just feels right for this series for some reason?; everything your author mentions here about glassmaking she learned from YouTube/Google

a/n: look mom, I actually finished a fic again! Maybe my ability to write hasn’t abandoned me after all…?

Masterlist.

———

She notices the sculptures the very first time they take her home. (Though not, she must admit, until the morning after, having been awfully distracted the night before by the attention Frankie, Pero, and Jack lavished her with on the way to their bed.)

Three glass animal figures sit together in a proud display in the living room built-ins next to the fireplace: a falcon, wings spread wide and claws poised to attack; a rearing horse, tall and magnificent; and a bull, one hoof raised and head lowered as it prepares to charge.

They are Pero’s work. In his post-Army career he now runs a small but highly regarded workshop of glass artisans, all veterans like himself.

His talent is obvious. Each feather in the falcon’s wings is rendered in exquisite detail. The horse stands on just his back two feet, perfectly balanced. The bull’s pose denotes a gracefulness underlying all that brute strength. They feel alive.

It’s the three of them, they tell her.

Frankie, the pilot, is the falcon. Precise, controlled, deadly. Vigilant. Protective.

Jack, the cowboy, is the horse. Proud, independent, wild. Confident. Courageous.

And Pero, of course, is the bull. Strong, stubborn, fierce. Masculine. Powerful.

There’s evidence of his work elsewhere in the house the three of them now share. Their kitchen cabinets are full of mismatched glasses, bowls, and plates, many of them early versions of new techniques or designs Pero worked to master before offering them as options to clients. The base of an end table in the den is a cresting glass wave nearly three feet tall. Brilliantly colored vases that sell for thousands at the workshop line either side of the back deck steps, filled with impatiens and begonias carefully tended by Frankie.

Pero asks her to come to the workshop with him one day, and she can sense without being told that such an offer is significant. It’s still early on in…whatever this is between her and the three of them. Early enough that it hasn’t solidified yet, it hasn’t settled. She wants them, all of them, and they want her (all of her), but whether the fantasy can manifest as reality is uncertain. Can they all rearrange their lives enough to build something lasting, something real?

Pero has been the hardest to figure out. He is the quietest of the men, the least quick to laugh, the last one to betray what he’s thinking. He fucks like he wants to consume her, devour her, and yet he can be as gentle as Frankie or Jack when he’s done, silently cradling her to his chest as long as she wants as they come down from their highs. He’s much less forthcoming about himself than the other two are, and she’s far less sure about what he wants.

It’s a chilly Sunday morning when she meets him at the workshop. It’s the first time she’s spent any real time with him alone, her stomach full of an odd combination of excitement and nerves.

He takes her in through the gallery of finished works at the front of the building. Bright lights and mirror-backed shelves show off the many pieces, from large imposing sculptures to tiny coupe cocktail glasses that sparkle and glimmer. The middle of the space is dominated by a sculpture of a dragon-like creature larger than she is, its many-fanged mouth open in a roar and its skin a rich rippling green.

Pero doesn’t give her time to linger, however, leading her quickly into the back where the workshop itself is housed. A tension in his shoulders loosens when they enter, and she gets the sense that he isn’t interested in showing off his finished pieces. It’s the process of creating that he likes, that he needs.

If the gallery is bright and shiny and polished, the workshop is a dark, gritty warehouse-like space. Multiple forges line one wall, and it is clear each artist has their own space set up here. Pero’s space is near the back, tucked into a corner. Various tools and implements hang from the walls and rest on tables: blowpipes of every length, tweezers, pliers, clamps, paddles, torches, molds. It looks a little like a medieval torture chamber.

Despite the cavernous feel of the space, it’s warm inside; the forge nearest Pero’s corner is already lit and glowing. She sheds her jacket, leaving her in a soft chambray button-down shirt and black leggings. Pero gives her a gruff explanation of safety basics and insists that she wear a pair of enormous clear safety glasses.

Really, Pero?

Do not argue with me, querida.

The endearment is new, and makes her shiver.

You make all the girls you bring here wear these, hm? She says it playfully, but there’s curiosity behind it.

I have only brought two others here, and Jack and Francisco wore the glasses without complaint.

That pulls her up short, but Pero merely hands her the glasses and busies himself with his tools.

She’d assumed at first that this would be entirely a demonstration on Pero’s part, with her as mere spectator. Normally the idea of a date spent watching a man show off some skill to try and impress her as a one-woman audience would make her roll her eyes. But Pero isn’t boastful about any of this. This isn’t about his ego. He’s letting her in, showing her things that are important to him rather than telling her.

And, she quickly discovers, she’s hardly expected to sit idly by and observe.

Pero loads the tip of a pipe nearly as tall as she is with a glowing lump of molten glass the size of a softball.

Glasswork is rarely a solo endeavor, he tells her. Large pieces often require an entire team of people working in sync. Even small pieces necessitate a partner. It takes not only speed and skill, but also constant communication and trust to successfully bring a piece to life.

As he speaks, he rests his pipe against the edge of a table and rolls it back and forth, helping the glass to keep its roughly oval shape.

Give it a try, querida. He offers the end of the pipe to her.

It’s heavier than she’d anticipated, the heat of the glass sinking through her clothes like the rays of a tiny sun. Her first few rolls of the pipe are too fast, but after a minute she begins to get the hang of how to keep the glass from bending and morphing under its own weight.

Good, Pero says, and suddenly there’s a flare of heat in her stomach. Keep that steady turn all the while, and bring it over here.

There’s a large tray set out on the end of the table, filled with tiny squares of glass in shades of blue and green and milky white. Pero instructs her to roll the glass on the pipe through the squares like a lint roller until there’s a rough coating covering it. It’s an oddly satisfying sensation, the molten glass acting like putty or taffy that grows steadily less pliant as it cools.

Now we take it back into the forge, Pero says, and she gives him room to take the pipe from her, but he merely gives her an encouraging nod of his head toward the forge.

The opening into the heart of the furnace isn’t terribly large, maybe a foot or so in diameter. But the heat roars from it with a power she can feel, rather than hear. It throbs and beats at her like a warning.

She hesitates, but then Pero’s arms are around her, gently but firmly grasping the pipe on either side of her hands.

Like this, he murmurs in her ear as he guides the ball of glass into the belly of the forge. She’s intently aware of every inch of him pressed up behind her, the firm wall of his chest and his slightly softer belly, so close she can feel him breathe.

He likes to fuck her from behind, she’s found.

Every time they’ve had each other, in the handful of times they’ve been intimate thus far, Pero’s put her on her hands and knees, his impossibly big hands holding her down as he fucks her with his impossibly big cock. He likes to wait until Frankie and Jack are done and spent, their cum dribbling out of her or dripping down her skin, before rolling her over and sinking deep into her heat. His grip is firm and possessive, his fingers insistent at her clit. He never fails to make her come with a pace just the right side of too much, the other men soothing her with soft praises of good girl and you take it so well for him, sweetheart.

It’s an automatic response now, the fire that blooms in her belly when she feels him at her back that has nothing to do with the flames licking the molten glass in front of her.

————-

She somehow manages to concentrate on the tasks at hand enough to safely move through the rest of the process.

Fire the glass, roll it, shape it, fire it again, push, pull, fire, roll, shape, fire…

How did you learn to do this? She asks Pero, holding the pipe steady for him while he plucks at the glass with a massive pair of pliers.

My father, is all he says at first. She lets the ensuing silence be, lets him decide if he wants to elaborate. He does.

My father was a glassmaker. When I was a boy in Spain, I would spend every spare minute in his workshop. He taught me everything he knew. I would watch him craft beautiful things out of nothing, shaping and coaxing the glass to his will in an act of creation. He was like a god in my eyes.

She tries to square this information with the little she already knows about Pero’s life.

Why did you leave Spain?

He plucks the pipe from her hands and returns to the forge. His grip is so sure, his movements so fluid. When he returns to her, he passes her the rod and picks up the pliers.

My father died. I was fourteen. My mother moved us to America, and I was full of grief and teenage rage. A combination I was all too happy to let the US Army exploit.

This part she’s heard. Twenty years in the Field Artillery, operating mobile rocket systems and infantry support guns, leading men and their weapons into combat zones across multiple tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. A life lived under fire.

But you found your way back to this, she says.

He looks up at her from where he crouches over the glass, now taking shape as a small vase.

It is the only other thing I know how to do.

She frowns at his modesty, but before she can respond he beckons her around the other side of the table they’re working at. He’s rolled and pulled the glass until no more than a slim column connects the bottom of the base to the pipe. He puts on thick heat-resistant gloves and cradles the vase, instructing her to tap ever-so-gently at the connecting sliver of glass with a small mallet.

With a barely perceptible chink the column breaks, freeing the vase. Pero then fires the bottom of the vase with a handheld blowtorch to smooth it out, and settles the vase into the bowl of a large round kiln for the final cooling process.

The vase stands maybe ten inches high, vaguely v-shaped with a flat bottom. The once bright orange ball of molten glass is now a brilliant turquoise, speckled with the tiny green and blue and white fragments she’d rolled it in. The rim is uneven, pulled and twisted by Pero’s pliers and it makes her think of the edges of a crashing wave.

She stands next to him and looks down at it before he closes the lid to the kiln. It’s small and simple and doubtless less polished than what Pero could have made with a more experienced partner, but it’s theirs.

We made that, she says, turning and giving him a shy smile.

His lips quirk up - not quite a smile, but there’s a softness to his expression that makes her breath catch.

A satisfying process, no? He asks. She nods. The moment stretches between them, the silence not awkward, but instead full of a warm, quiet intimacy.

Come on, pretty girl, Pero murmurs, reaching up to gently remove the safety glasses from her face. Let’s clean up.

Somehow she finds even the sight of him returning every tool back to its proper place, knowing exactly where each piece goes so that it’s ready for the next time he needs it, terribly attractive.

She catches his hand after everything’s put away, pulling his focus.

Thank you, she says, for this. Thank you for letting me in, for revealing this part of you, she doesn’t say, but hopes he knows that’s what she means. I’d…I’d love to do this again sometime.

He brushes his other hand across her cheek.

Anytime you like, querida.

She moves in to kiss him and it’s soft in a way she hasn’t felt from Pero before. He pulls her flush against him and simply holds her there, lazily exploring her mouth. He smells like sweat and heated metal, and she turns her head to lick the salt from the skin of his neck. A sound rumbles from deep in his chest, and the moment goes white-hot in an instant.

Touch me, Pero, she whispers. Put your hands on me.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides one hand to the back of her neck to yank her lips back up to his, the other disappearing into her leggings to grab a fistful of her ass. He swallows the pleased little gasp she makes, greedy for more.

He backs her up against the side of his workbench, moving to unbutton her top. Once he has access he pulls down the cups of her bra and turns his full attention to her breasts, kneading the soft flesh with his hands and laving his tongue over her nipples.

Her fingers run through his hair, longer than Jack’s but with curls less unruly than Frankie’s. His hips press against hers and she squirms against the bulge in his jeans, searching for friction.

Need more, baby? He coos up at her, a wicked glint in his eye.

Need you, Pero, she whines.

He straightens and turns her around to bend her over the workbench, curling his fingers in the waistband of her leggings to yank them down and expose her gorgeous ass to him…

Wait.

He freezes.

Could we…I want…

He runs a soothing palm over her hip.

What do you want, pretty girl?

She twists back around to face him. He lets himself be nudged backward until he feels the edge of a nearby chair behind him and sits. She towers over him now, and he looks up at her with one brow raised.

I want to see you, she says shyly, and his blood heats. He slowly spreads his legs in invitation.

She slips out of her shoes and shimmies her leggings and panties off, then similarly loses her shirt and bra. He reaches for her with a growl and hauls her into his lap. She goes willingly, wrapping herself around him as his hands rove over every inch of her skin. This time their kiss is messy and desperate, and when Pero trails a hand down her stomach and finds the soft hair of her mound to pet at her clit, she whimpers into his mouth.

You want it? He rasps. She nods frantically, their noses brushing.

Then take it out, pretty girl.

She undoes his jeans and frees the stiff length of his cock, pumping him slowly, drawing bead after bead of precum from the tip.

But then her grip falters.

This is okay, right?

Pero frowns at her, confused.

What I mean is…I know we talked about it, and you all said it was okay, that we don’t always all have to be together, but…

Ah, so that’s her concern. Something wild and beastly claws at his ribcage in triumph at the realization that he’ll be the first of them to have her all to himself.

It is more than okay, he reassures her, smoothing a thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. We told you we can each take our pleasure from the others whenever we wish, and none of us is a man who says things he does not mean. Least of all to those we care for.

He can feel her body relax at that, and he tilts her chin and draws her in for another kiss. Her hand starts to move up and down his cock again, the tip of him grazing the pillowy skin of her inner thigh with each pass, and a hiss leaves his mouth at the sensation.

This will not go the way you intend if you keep that up, he warns her. A newfound deviousness unfurls itself in her grin.

Maybe this is what I intend, she says. Maybe I want you just like this, hard and aching in my hands until I make you come all over yourself -

He cuts her off by crashing his lips to hers, stilling her movements on his cock and hooking one hand under her ass to push her up until his length prods against her entrance.

Perhaps, he murmurs, perhaps one day if you’re a very, very good girl, I’ll let you have such a way with me. But for now - he notches himself just inside the slick rim of her pussy - put me inside you.

She obeys, working herself down on him inch by inch. When he’s fully seated inside her she sighs as if in relief, a dazed look in her eyes. There’s a distant thought in the back of her head that despite the workshop being closed today, one of the artists could still walk in unexpectedly at any moment, but she can’t bring herself to care.

They make twin sounds of pleasure at the first swirl of her hips. As her body adjusts to his size she finds her rhythm, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she rides him.

And god, what a sight.

She knows what sex with Pero feels like. She knows what it sounds like, smells like, tastes like. But none of those things has prepared her for what it looks like. What he looks like, as they move together, face-to-face for the first time.

The clench of his jaw, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. The tendons that pop and strain in his neck. The dewy sheen of sweat across his brow. And his eyes…

She could fall forever into the endless black abyss of his eyes, she could lose herself entirely in their depths and never look away and would be thankful for it. How could she not be, when he looks at her with such unrestrained want that she feels it like a physical thing…

She brushes a thumb over the scar that bisects his left eye, as if she could soothe the long-ago wound with present tenderness. She knows it’s far from the only scar he carries, and would that she could heal them all through sheer force of will.

Pero swirls his thumb around her clit, bracing his feet as he begins to meet her hips with thrusts of his own. Her movements stutter as her control over her body wavers. She becomes nothing more than molten desire in his hands, to be molded and shaped and consumed by flame as he sees fit. The pressure he puts on her clit is unrelenting, and this is familiar, the way he doesn’t coax an orgasm from her, but demands it. It builds and builds in between her legs and when she would close her eyes and tip her head back to welcome it he grabs her chin to stop her.

Look at me, he pants. Look at me when I make you come, querida. Look…

It starts as a command, but ends as a plea.

The tension bursts inside her, and her cry of his name and the way her climax tightens her pussy around him like a vice pulls him headlong over the edge with her. He cums with a roar, pulling her down on his cock as he empties himself as deep as he can inside her.

It’s a long minute before they both fully come back to themselves, breathing hard as their bodies milk every last drop of pleasure from each other. She collapses into his chest, and he’s content to hold her there for as long as she wishes.

We can do that again anytime you like too, he says quietly in her ear, and she smiles into his neck.

——————

There’s no big reveal, no fanfare or presentation when it happens. She simply comes home one day (and funny, how she’s started to think of it as home, how her apartment has become merely a place where most of her things are, including the vase she’d made with Pero, but not where she lives) and there it sits on the shelf, catching her eye immediately.

The falcon, the horse, and the bull, now clustered around a fourth statue.

A lioness.

She moves towards it as if pulled by gravity. The beauty of it steals her breath. The great cat is posed sitting, tall and elegant, her body at a three-quarters position but her head turned to look straight out at the viewer. Her tail is wrapped neatly around her, and her tiny delicate ears are alert.

What do you think? says a soft voice behind her. It carries an uncharacteristic hint of uncertainty.

She doesn’t turn, doesn’t need to look to know the man behind her is the one who made this.

She’s gorgeous, she murmurs.

Pero hums low in his throat, and comes to stand over her shoulder.

You can ask, he says. I want to tell you.

Why a lioness? she whispers.

Pero is silent for a moment.

She is strong, and graceful. Clever, and brave. Loyal. Beautiful.

A tingling warmth floods her chest. It feels like too much, the implied praise too high.

They’re remarkable creatures, she replies.

They ain’t the only ones, darlin’, Jack drawls from the doorway. He’s flanked by Frankie, who has one arm wrapped casually around Jack’s waist.

I don’t know what to say. Tears prick her eyes as she turns to face them.

You don’t have to say anything, Frankie tells her.

Just be ours. Pero says it so softly she almost doesn’t hear him. As we are yours.

She pulls Pero in for a kiss, her answer whispered like a vow against his lips:

I already am.

———

Fun fact I learned about glassblowing equipment during my research for this fic that I wasn’t able to work into the story but absolutely need to share with you anyway:

Did y’all know that the furnaces like the one Pero uses here to heat the glass are called GLORY HOLES?!?!?!? Swear to god. Be careful googling that if you don’t believe me. 😂

#Pedro pascal #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pero tovar fanfiction #the great wall fic

[agentmarcuspike]

ZIGGY can i request number four with joel?

prompt: painting their nails pairing: joel x reader (ft. sarah) word count: ~750

(idk what this header is lmao please forgive)

“What’s that smell?” Joel shouts as he kicks his boots off in the hallway. “You guys playing chemists in there?” 

When he enters the kitchen, he stops in his tracks immediately and swallows a yelp, his hand covering his heart as he leans on the door frame. You and Sarah look back at him with faces covered in white sheets. For a second he wonders if he’s started hallucinating ghosts, until you open your mouth to reply.

“We’re having a spa day!” you explain.

Sarah giggles at her dad’s sigh, and he makes his way over to where you’re sitting at the kitchen table, faces covered in facemasks, and Sarah’s fingers covered in polish as you paint them with a tiny brush. 

“Smells like a factory,” Joel mumbles, stealing a piece of cucumber from your bowl of “healthy snacks”. 

“She’s painting my nails!” Sarah quips, wiggling her finished hand towards her dad.

“Lemme see,” he says, holding her fingers carefully between his, inspecting them.

He nods, face radiating approval through his trademark impressed-dad-upside-down-grin. “'S'a nice color.” 

Sarah beams at the compliment. “I picked it!” 

“Great job, kid,” he smiles, carefully stroking her hair instead of ruffling it like he used to when she was younger, and cared less about her looks. He can tell that you've played hairdressers on each other, and doesn't want to ruin it.

“Want me to do yours too?” you wink at Joel.

He laughs. “Nah, the guys at work would have a field day.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, slightly disappointed with his attitude. “Oh. Didn’t peg you for someone who cared about that…”

“I don’t,” he says defensively. “I just…” He clears his throat as he grabs a chair.

The air is thick with anticipation as you and Sarah look at him.

“Oh what the hell,” he says eventually, and Sarah claps in victory. Joel throws a leg over the extra chair and scoots it closer to the table, giving you his hand. “Just not, like, underwear red or somethin’. ‘S’not really… my color.” 

Sarah looks quickly from her dad to you and back before getting up.

“Okay, I don’t wanna know what that means…”

She gives her dad a playful shove. “I’m gonna go take this mask off.”

“Your nails aren’t dry yet!” you yell after her, but she’s already halfway out the door.

“I’ll be careful!” she shouts back, before the door to her bedroom down the hall slams shut.

Joel gives you an embarrassed smile. You grab his hand, guiding it to where you need it on the table, and pick out a few colors for him to choose between. The bottles clink as you put them down on the table in front of him, one by one. You end up with a light blue, a deep brown, and a bright pink. 

“Personally,” you say before he can decide, “I think this would look amazing on you.” You point to the pink one. “And the guys at work can call me if they have a problem with a man confident enough in his masculinity not to care.” You shoot him a daring smile.

That gains you a chuckle from him. “Fine…” he says defeatedly. “Try it out on one first.” He lifts his pointer finger to signal where he wants the color.

“How about two,” you challenge, meeting his eyes while holding his pointer and middle finger with one hand as you expertly unscrew the small bottle of polish with the other.

“I don’t think it’ll go with any of my shirts,” he jokes, blushing slightly and paying close attention as the brush spreads the bright color on his nail, instead of looking at you.

You pause and squint up at him until he meets your gaze. “I know something of mine they’d look really good in.” 

The slight blush on Joel’s cheekbones spreads to his entire face at that, eyes bulging as he realizes which place you’re referring to. He shoots a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Sarah’s out of earshot before he answers.

“Oh yeah?” he all but whispers. “You’d like the look of that? My fingers with painted nails on you?”

“Mhm,” you mumble through tight lips, biting down on your bottom one. “On me… and…”

Under the table, your foot slides casually up to rest on the seat of his chair between his thighs before you finish your thought. 

“In me…”  

A growl escapes Joel from deep in his chest before he can stop it. You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you rise from the table.

“Good thing you only wanted two nails done,” you say, grabbing him by the arm, guiding him towards the stairs to your upstairs bedroom. “I don’t think I’d have the patience to wait for all of them to dry.”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller x you #jhasgdkjsah what even is this sorry #my writing

[not-a-space-alien]

K&J x MMSS 3: Kane & Valen Part 13

Chapter 13 of the third crossover with @whumpsday!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

SERIES IS 18+ ONLY.

This is the last chapter of this crossover!! Thank you so much to everyone who followed along on this journey. This is one of my favorite pieces that Mill and I have written together, because of how sweet and tender it turns out at the end. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.

Although this is the last we’ll be posting of this particular AU, we have a lot of other crossovers that we’ll probably be sprucing up and posting! Keep an eye out because we’ll probably be posting a poll to ask which one everyone would like to see us to post next.

Until then, enjoy!

In this chapter: Sweet, sweet divorce and a well-earned happy ending

Warnings: References to institutionalized dehumanization, misgendering a transmasculine character, references to intimate partner violence, mentions of past rape (off-screen)

***

Valen wakes up gently, gradually, and not scared or in pain at all. Next to the one person he has rock solid confidence loves him totally and unconditionally.

Kane is still asleep, mouth slightly agape, fangs poking out. Valen finds it adorable. He reaches one hand out to gently stroke Kane’s hair, and Kane closes his mouth and lets out a satisfied breath, leaning into the touch without waking up. He looks so very cozy and comfortable that Valen is inspired to simply lean into him and go back to sleep himself. 

***

They sleep through the day, and when night comes again, they go back out into society. It feels very weird to be surrounded by vampires again, after so long in human territory. 

They buy blood, as much of it as they can expect to drink before it goes bad. Oh, the underappreciated joy of being able to just go out and get packs of blood to drink. They get the ethical stuff–it's not Valen's first time buying it, but it is Kane's.

In a previous life, Kane may have complained that it doesn't taste as good due to the longer delivery time making it a bit stale. He now holds no such sentiments. Any blood at all is a gift from the universe, and he likes knowing that no one had to be hurt to get it. There’s been more than enough hurt.

He writes and sends a long apology letter to Bellamy, including his new phone number–Valen’s number–explaining that he's alive and he'd like to reconcile. He knows that Bellamy and Valen would love each other, and is looking forward to that as well. He gets his financials sorted out with his family's accountant, so they have ample funds and Valen’s husband has no control over him any longer.

Now that it's the next night, Kane decides to bring up the thoughts he pushed aside yesterday.

"Valen, I just want to say that I'm sorry if it hurt, when we were... together before. I didn't know what I was doing, or that I was supposed to help you relax first. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I know it's bad memories. I just wanted to apologize."

Unfortunately, it had hurt, a little at the start. Valen is overwhelmed for a second by the memory, and by how much he'd hated Kane in the moment, despite the situation being completely out of his control.

"I doubt Nick really would have let you," he admits. "It was hardly an ideal time to be learning how to please one's partner." He sits down on the loveseat. His arms are full of the mail he'd picked up from his landlord, and he starts rifling through it to keep his hands busy. It's a literal armful. "If it's any consolation to you, you were... smaller, in that area, than Nick was, so it always hurt less. I'm certain it hurt much less for me than it did for you when Nick did it to you."

The horror of watching Kane have to experience that while practically in his lap is burned into Valen’s brain. He feels like if they have enough new memories of each other in the throes of pleasure, maybe that will scrub the image away, the horrible way it started.

"Yes, I'm glad for that," Kane agrees. Nick always made him hurt to the point of bleeding, and at least that wasn't the case for him and Valen. "It'll only be good from now on," he adds with a smile. Maybe that’s naive of him, but it certainly can’t ever be as bad as it was.

Valen smiles back, but then his hands falter on the mail in his hand. "O-oh," he says, and he's instantly in tears. "I-I-I got a letter from Priscus. I didn't think he knew where I live. I-I guess he knows my new address."

Kane has only met Priscus Kithrara briefly, but everything he knows about the man from Valen makes him hate him more and more. He gently puts his hand over Valen's. "He can't hurt you anymore. I know I've promised to protect you many times, and failed. This time, I really can. He will never touch you again. Do you want me to read the letter for you and let you know if there's anything important in it?"

Valen hands the letter to Kane with a shaking hand. "That-that sounds good. Yes, please."

When Kane unfolds the letter, he finds enclosed a glossy photograph of a beautiful cat with white fur and blue eyes. The letter reads:

To my dearest turtledove,

The whole staff here at the manor is looking forward to your return. I know you are confused and emotional, but know that my patience will never run out. I only want what's best for you. Whenever you need me, just call for me and you know I'll come running. I know you are away right now, seeing the world, but your home will be waiting for you when you get back. My whole family is eager to see you safe back at my side, and I will do whatever it takes to make things right.

I know you were distraught over the loss of your beloved pet all those years ago, so to make our home more inviting to you, I have acquired the finest replacement, exactly to your taste, down to the way she trills and follows you around the house. She still has not been bestowed a name, which is a right that I reserve for you upon your return to the estate.

Please call me when you get this, so I know you are safe.

Love,

Priscus

"He got a cat and wants you to name her." Kane summarizes, leaving off all of Priscus's flowery, manipulative language. "He also wants you to call him. And there's a picture of the cat."

Valen takes the picture, sighing exasperatedly. "Of course he did. Of course he does. This is just like him. He always does this. He treats me like a child–except one that he can have sex with–and then when it upsets me, he tries to placate me with gifts." Valen is suddenly self-conscious. He knows that Kane is not one for one-upmanship in terms of comparing suffering, but compared to the way Kane's family treats him, Priscus must sound like an absolute sweetheart, giving him gifts and saying he loves him. "He has no idea how to make me actually happy–or is simply unwilling to do it."

Kane eyes the confused and emotional part of the letter again and rolls his eyes at it, crumpling it up. "He sounds like a creep. As if you can't get a cat on your own if you wanted to. I should go over there and make him sign those divorce papers once and for all. Maybe it'd be a wake-up call if he knew you were dating Kane de Sang," he says with a smirk.

Valen puts his hand to his mouth. "Do you think so?" He has no idea how Priscus will react to the idea that he's now dating someone else. It will certainly be unexpected, but it could go either way of him simply giving up...or of him getting even more possessive and domineering. "If-If you mean it, I suppose maybe it could work...I know he has a low opinion of you, unfortunately, but you're a man, so he might...recognize you as, er, having a right to claim territory, so to speak. It might make him realize this separation is permanent and not temporary. Although....Kane, I'm worried he will get violent."

"I was thinking the low opinion would work in our favor,” Kane explains. “If he knows you left him for me, despite it all, that might get it through his thick skull." His hands curl into fists as he considers the implications of Valen's words, how Valen would know that Priscus gets violent. "I hope he fucking does. That'd give me an excuse to-" He cuts himself off, shaking his head. He's getting back into his old mindset. He doesn't want to be the angry, violent man who hurt Jim anymore. "No. I wouldn't escalate anything. It's okay. I'm used to violent." 

Valen crumples a little. "Oh--I know you can take it, but--it's just--I just hate this. I don't want to see him debase you. Or the two of us. And I know he will, he'll take it as an insult." He folds his arms on his lap, sagging. "It feels like cowardice to have you fight this battle for me. I just don't know what else to do. And now that, that he knows where I am, he'll see you eventually, I'm sure of it, so there's no use hiding it."

"I want to," Kane assures him, dropping the letter to take Valen's hands instead. "You've dealt with him enough. I want to do this for you. Just like how you... spoke to my father for me. You won't have to deal with him ever again. I'll make sure of it. My defect regardless, I'm just as much nobility as he is. I will protect you."

"Okay," says Valen, blushing. "Th-thank you." Maybe this would be okay, to let someone else take care of him. It had always gone wrong in the past, but Kane knew what he actually wanted, and would try for that, instead of what he thought Valen should want. "So, so should we call on the phone, or go over there? Or write a letter?" 

Kane considers this. "Do you think, if we talked on the phone or wrote a letter, he would try to come here to speak to you in person? If that's the case, we should just go there. But if not, the phone is probably better."

Valen's face falls. "He would definitely come find me in person before giving up."

"Then we should go. It's better for it to happen on our terms, with no surprise." He squeezes Valen's hand. "I'll be with you the whole time, and we'll leave right after. And it doesn't have to be now. Whenever you want to do this."

Valen looks at the clock to see how much time is left in the night. He feels like the anticipation is going to kill him if he just waits. Best to rip the bandaid off quickly. "I think we can go tonight. If that's okay with you. Thank you."

"Then we'll go." Kane is nervous too, though not nearly as much as Valen is. He's afraid that when faced with hostility, he may panic and crumble, leaving Valen to defend both of them. That is the last thing he wants. He resolves himself to stand his ground no matter what. Priscus is no threat to him. "You can lead me there, and I'll talk to him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You can even leave and go home early, if it turns out to be too much for you. I'll handle it."

Valen has never felt so genuinely and holistically protected by anyone else. "Thank you."

He searches around the apartment for a bit and finds the divorce paperwork, the one that was filled out, signed, stamped, completed in every way except for the one that actually mattered—the husband's signature. He'd thought about trying to forge the signature in the past, but he'd always known that wouldn't do the job and would just make things worse.

They travel to the Kithrara estate. Valen's hackles start to go back up as soon as he steps onto the grounds, past the gate and onto the extensive lawn, up to the main manor where he knows Priscus will likely be. The servants all gasp with delight and welcome him back enthusiastically, opening doors for him without question, although Kane does get some looks. Valen had always been a favorite among the staff at home.

A few inquiries about where Priscus is is all it takes to find him. He's in the main hall, with a vampire Valen knows is one of the people whose job it is to go into human territory and abduct people to throw into the blood farms. He currently has a human on a chain, around the neck. The human's face is stained with tears and very, very scared. Valen's face falls upon seeing it. He won't be able to stop thinking about it throughout this whole conversation now.

Kane's eyes fall toward the human, too. The human looks as scared as Jim had on that first night. Immediately, he starts thinking of potential ways to get them out of here, but the fact that his interaction with Priscus is going to be hostile won't help. He wonders if offering twice the revenue a single human would generate during their short lifetime would work, especially if he frames it as a gesture of goodwill to make up for everything else this conversation will entail.

As soon as Priscus catches sight of Valen, he stops whatever business he was doing and waves the other vampire away, dragging the terrified and abused human to the periphery of the room.

"My little turtledove," he purrs, coming over and wrapping his arms around Valen, putting his chin on Valen's head. "Finally. I'm so pleased to see you here again."

As soon as Priscus touches Valen, it's obvious his learned helplessness kicks in. He freezes, going rigid.

Kane shoves Priscus away, moving protectively in front of Valen. "He doesn't want to hug you," he says firmly. "Kane de Sang. I believe we've met before, briefly."

Priscus gives Kane a withering stare, folding his hands in front of him. "Oh, yes. You. I thought you were dead. Have you risen from the grave for the exclusive purpose of interfering with my personal life? What business do you have here? It's awfully bold of you to lay hands on the heir to the Kithrara estate in his own home, with his own wife in the room."

Kane wants to strangle him until he's gasping for breath. He wants to scream obscenities and beat Priscus to a bloody pulp. He wants to drive a stake through the man's heart. His fingers twitch with the urge to wrap them around Priscus’s throat.

Instead, he presents the divorce papers. "I apologize," he says through gritted teeth. "I could see that Valen was distressed, and wanted to remedy that as soon as possible. We've come to request you sign these. I'm Valen's boyfriend."

Priscus's face immediately turns stony. "Valen's what?"

Valen edges further behind Kane.

"His boyfriend," Kane repeats. "I understand you've been separated for quite a while now, and he's been trying to get you to sign off on a divorce long before he met me. He's moved on. If you care about his happiness at all, you'll sign them."

Priscus eyes the papers in Kane's hand and sighs, pushing Kane's hand delicately away with a single disgusted finger. "Mr. de Sang. Valen does not have a boyfriend. She is my wife. And I can see you've been enabling some of her delusions, so it's bold of you to act like you care about her more than I do. Not only that, but I can see whatever you've done to her has made her clearly visibly underweight. I can only assume you've been feeding her unhealthy fear that she's being immoral by drinking blood. She's struggled with disordered eating in the past, not that that's any of your business. I assure you our separation is quite temporary, and also none of your business, so please kindly leave the premises if you're quite done?"

"That is not the case at all. We've recently been through... an ordeal together, where neither of us had access to food for several months." Kane doesn't want to give specifics in case Valen doesn't want Priscus to know. "We've only just recently escaped, and he's been eating well since. I've done nothing to him. If you think the separation is temporary, you're the one who's delusional," he can't help but snap.

Priscus raises an eyebrow. "You dragged my wife through an.... ordeal, during which you could not feed her, and you expect me to believe you will take care of her?" He looks past Kane to Valen. "Come now, darling, Kane de Sang, of all people? You must have picked him on purpose, in some childish attempt to humiliate me."

"It's not that," Valen says quietly.

"I got us out of there. I did take care of him," Kane protests. "Think about it. If he chose me, surely that means it's over. Stop throwing a years-long tantrum because he doesn't like you back and just accept it already."

Priscus gives them both a very long stare, then sighs. He looks at Valen. "This is really what you want?" He sounds exasperated.

"Yes."

"Neither your nor my family will be happy about it."

"They are already unhappy with me."

Priscus looks at Kane. "I'm sure the de Sang family won't be happy about this either, when they hear you broke up a proper marriage, between proper vampires." 

"As long as Valen's happy with the situation, I don't care," Kane says. "To echo his sentiment, they are already unhappy with me. Will you sign the papers?"

Priscus's lip peels back in a sneer. "When this inevitably ends poorly, I want it to be noted that I was against it from the very beginning. I can't keep shielding you from the consequences of your actions, Valen. I have been as patient as I can, but I cannot make any guarantees about how it will be if you try to come back." He takes the papers and signs them. "There, now all your problems are solved." His voice drips in sarcasm. "I expect you to return the money and heirlooms you took from the estate."

It’s done, it’s finally done, after so much fuss. "Yes sir," Valen squeaks. He has no intention of actually doing anything Priscrus demands short of legal pressure.

With the papers signed, Kane's mind once again turns to the terrified human. It's... worth a shot, he supposes. The worst thing that can happen is Priscus says no.

"Thank you, Mr. Kithrara," Kane says politely, despite his increasingly violent feelings toward him. He hands the papers to Valen, still behind him. "I will ensure your property is returned. As a token of goodwill and apology, I'd like to buy this human for double the revenue a human is likely to generate during its lifetime." He desperately hopes Priscus takes the bait.

Priscus cocks his head. "That is a strange token. Why do you want this one?"

"This human happens to be here," Kane says simply. It's true. Every human Priscus's family owns is likely just as terrified as this one- until they lose themselves to overexposure to persuasion, of course. This human is just the one who's here. "And I thought it would be a nice gesture."

Priscus looks to the far side of the room where the other vampire has the scared human. He shrugs. "Very well. This human is here because we were discussing its suitability to drink from, since there seems to be something wrong with it, but this will solve that problem." He gestures for the other vampire to come over, and hands Kane the chain around the human's neck.

Kane takes the chain. "Great. Glad I could help," he says, trying to stifle his anger. He takes his checkbook out, and after receiving the price from Priscus, cuts him a check.

"We'll be going, then. Thank you for your cooperation." He opts to just carry the terrified human instead, given they're likely going straight home from here and a human won't be able to run that far. Making sure to keep himself between Valen and Priscus, he shuffles the three of them outside.

"Huh. That went well," he comments.

"Thank you," Valen says, in tears. "Thank you, Kane." He hugs close to Kane.

A servant comes running out. "Mistress Kithrara, wait!" She is holding a small kennel, and slows down as she gets closer. "Um, I overheard Master Kithrara saying that he was going to give this cat to the pound if you didn't want it, and–and I thought maybe you–"

Valen takes the kennel, inside of which a white figure can be seen crouched in the corner. "Oh, thank you," he sniffles. "Yes, this is very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

The servant bows, smiling, looking a little mischievous, and returns into the house. Leaving Valen holding a cat, and Kane holding a sobbing, terrified human.

"Okay. This is- okay, we need to go home. We need to call Liz," Kane decides. He looks down at the human in his arms. "We're not going to hurt you. We're going to take you home, back to human territory. It's okay. It's over."

"Really?" the human asks, trembling. "I–Please, please, please, thank you so much." He clearly does not quite believe Kane.

"I–I suppose we have a cat now, as well," says Valen. "I hope that's all right? Oh, what time is it? Will we have enough time before sunrise to get to the border, or will we have a guest with us until tonight?"

"Please let me go," the human weeps, clearly terrified of the prospect of spending a whole day alone with the two vampires.

Kane checks his watch. "It'll have to be tomorrow. I'm sorry. We're going to let you go, I promise, but it'll have to wait. We're not even close to the border," he says apologetically.

The thought of holding a human captive, even for a single day, is terrifying. Every lesson the hunters seared into him, reminding him what happens when he messes with humans. It sends a chill down his spine, a deep fear he knows he won’t be getting rid of anytime soon.

But he’s helping this time. He’s making things right. He’s in vampire territory, safe. He just needs to remember that. "Okay, we have to- we have to get human food and cat food tonight. And litter? That's the most important thing right now, or we'll have a starving human and cat for the next day. And we can call Liz to coordinate a dropoff for- um, I'm Kane, and this is Valen."

The human sobs, curling in on himself. "Sir–Please, sir, I–if it's not– I’m anemic, I haven't eaten all day. Please, sir."

"I don't know what that means, but we're going to get you food. I know humans starve easily, we're going to get you food right now. It's okay." Kane looks back at Valen. "Should one of us take them both home while the other shops, or should we just take them with us and go shopping together?"

Valen looks overwhelmed. "I–We should bring the human, so he can pick out his food. Anemic means his body isn’t producing enough red blood cells, so he needs something with high iron content.” He addresses the human, "Please try to be calm. Everything will be all right."

This attempt is not more successful at calming him down, though he does seem relieved to finally find someone who understands he has a medical condition

 "Maybe, um, maybe I'll take the cat home, and you two go to the store?” Valen proposes. “Do you know what supplies to get for a cat?"

"Kibble, litter, box? And whatever else the employees recommend?" Kane suggests. "That sounds good. Oh, let me just-" He sets the human down for a moment so his hands are free to remove the chain around his neck. "That's better, right?"

The human looks incredulous, but not much more at ease to have the chain taken off. "Th-thank you, sir. Are you going to--are you going to brainwash me now?"

"No. I can't- I'm not," Kane says, embarrassed. He wouldn't have anyway, but he's still sensitive about the subject. "Listen, it's going to be okay. I'm going to buy you food, then we'll go back home and call a human we're friendly with, who can meet us at the border to take you home tomorrow night. You can call home, too. I've been captive myself, and only very recently gotten out. That terror you're feeling, I've felt it too. I just want to help." He scoops the human back up in his arms. "Let's get you some food."

"Th-thank you, sir," he says, crying, still clearly terrified. "Thank you."

"I'll see you at home," Kane says to Valen, and gives him a peck on the cheek.

Valen leans into him. "Thank you, dear. Thank you." He holds the divorce papers tightly in his free hand. He bids the panicked human to calm down one more time before they split up.

***

Kane takes the human to a general store, where he'll be able to pick up both human food and cat stuff in one trip. The selection of human food is minimal, but contains all essentials and a bunch of iron-rich options. "If this isn't enough, we can go to the human supply store. But I figured this would be okay since it's just one day."

"Yes," he says, still sounding like he's on the verge of a breakdown any second, being in public with all these vampires around. "Thank you, sir, thank you so much." He picks out some stuff, seeming to be the most excited about eating fruit, although he seems afraid to look too pleased about it.

"It's alright. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." Kane feels very protective over this human. He grabs the cat essentials too, figuring he and Valen can come back for extra things like toys when he doesn't have an entire human to carry. He hands the shopping bags to the human and picks him back up.

"You can eat on the way home, if you'd like." He knows that if he'd had to wait at all before drinking blood after acquiring it after he'd been freed, it would have been awful.

"Thank you, sir," the human weeps. He does, in fact, eat on the way home.

When they arrive, Valen has the cat out of the carrier. The cat is wearing a fancy-looking studded pink collar and is sprawled out on the floor. Valen has his face buried in the cat's flank when the door opens, and he jerks away as though caught doing something illicit. "Oh, you're back, did it go okay?" 

Kane smiles, setting the human down and grabbing the bag with the cat things from him. "Yes, we got food for everyone. We'll have to go back later for the non-essentials for the cat, it was too much to carry at once." He hands the cat bag to Valen. "I can't believe this all actually went well. Tomorrow we'll be freeing a human and setting your divorce finalization in motion."

"Y-yes," says Valen. "Thank you." He walks into Kane's arms, burying his face in his chest, and finally letting himself cry. "Thank you, my dear, thank you so much. I couldn't have done any of this without you." He sniffles. "And I--I suppose I did kind of want the cat."

Kane hugs him, gently rubbing his back. "I'm so glad. It's okay. He can't hurt you anymore. No one can."

Valen wipes his eye. "Thank you." He sniffles, then looks at the human. "Oh, hey, why don't you come sit down. Here." Valen beckons him to sit on the couch, and he does so, food still in his lap. "What's your name?"

"S-sam, ma'am," he says wretchedly. "Um, pl-please don't--I--I know--he said food for everyone, but--but if I--I'm your food, I--I don't think I have enough blood to--I think I'll pass out if you both feed from me." His face goes white, as though realizing that maybe they don't care.

"Sh," says Valen. "It's all right. We're not going to feed from you."

"Wh-Why did you buy me?" he says.

"You looked scared," Kane tells him. "We've been there, I wanted to help. We're not going to hurt you. And Valen isn't a ma'am, just so you know. We're both men. I- I should call Liz now, right?" he asks Valen. "Let her know what's going on?" 

Sam looks scared again--it's basically all he's been doing the whole time they've seen him. He doesn't say anything.

Valen perks up. "Yes. In fact, I think it would win favor with her to say that you are releasing this human. Although, um, maybe just be careful how you phrase it."

"Yes, noted." Kane agrees, and goes to dial her. The phone rings and rings, to no answer. Kane figures she is either asleep or out hunting. He calls Jim next, who does pick up with a sleepy "Hello?" after several rings.

"Hello, Jim." Kane says.

Jim gasps and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, startled by hearing Kane's voice all of a sudden in the middle of the night.

"It's Kane,” he continues. “Um, I'm here with Valen, and we've come across a captive human. We want to return him home tomorrow night, since we're too far from human territory to make the trip tonight. I tried calling Liz, but she didn't answer. Could you pass it along and tell her to call us back?"

After a moment, it sinks in: Kane is saving a human. For a moment, Jim feels a pang of jealousy. Where was this Kane, the kind one who saves humans instead of hurting them, when he was young and vulnerable? Why couldn't he get the nice Kane?

He tries to shake the feeling away. "That's great, man. Thank you. Uh, she should be home in less than an hour, you could give her a call then. I'm... really glad you're doing this. Thank you."

"Of course. I'll try calling her again soon, then. I know it doesn't make up for what I did to you, but I want to try to be better."

"Yeah. Um, just, just be gentle with him, please," Jim says apprehensively.

"I will. No harm will come to him, and I'll return him home tomorrow night." Kane promises. The two say their goodbyes. "Liz is out hunting, Jim said she should be home soon. Sam, would you like to use the phone?"

"Yes," says Sam desperately. "Yes, please."

He dials with a shaking hand, apparently his mother by the sound of it, and tells her what's happened in between bouts of choked crying. The act of reassuring her that he's going to get home soon seems to make it sink in for him, too. He hands the phone back and sits on the couch, making liberal use of the tissues offered to him. The cat eventually hops up and sits on his lap.

"I suppose this must seem terribly unfair to the humans we didn't rescue," says Valen. "Although, I suppose it matters a bit less to the ones who already have enough brain damage to not be aware of what's happening to them."

Sam remains silent, hunkering against the armrest of the couch.

"It's not like we can buy all of them," Kane points out. "At least we're helping one person.”

Valen still looks doubtful. He’s always been the kind of person to be unable to see the trees for the forest. He’d often gotten lost in the mires of thinking What’s the point in helping one if we can’t help them all? The simplicity with which Kane approaches the problem grounds him a little. And maybe now that they’re free and can worry about things other than themselves, they can think about how to help on a systemic scale.

…After getting Sam home safely.

Kane does try calling Liz again a little later, explaining the situation again. Liz jumps on the opportunity to help, agreeing to meet them as soon as they can get to the border tomorrow night. She asks to talk to Sam, and Kane hands him the phone.

"Hey. I'm Liz, I'm a hunter, and I'm going to come get you. It's gonna be okay. Just hold out there a little longer, yeah? You're gonna be fine," she assures him.

"Thank you," says Sam. "Thank you so, so much. Thank you. Please come get me. Please do. Please."

Valen holds his hand out for the phone. "Liz, thank you for your assistance. Um, this human is anemic. Is there anything else we need to do for him? We let him pick out his own foods. I learned about this in theory, but that was decades ago. It's difficult to remember."

"Fuck, I dunno. Don’t make him exercise too hard? That's, like, the only thing I know about it," Liz says. "Have you asked him?"

"Oh, well if you don't have any experience with it, then we can just ask him for more details. We have to wait until tomorrow night to go out again and I wanted to make him comfortable." Technically Valen could put on his daywalker outfit again, but...he'd rather not, so he doesn't mention it. "I just thought you might have some tidbits and save Sam the trouble of having to explain it all to us. We let him use the phone to call his family. Thank you for the help--I think, I think I might faint if I had to go into human territory again, but I would hate to drop him off and make him walk the rest of the way."

"I can handle it. It's okay," Kane tells Valen. He's also terrified to go back to human territory to hand Sam over to Liz, but he knows he needs to do this. He has to be strong, for Valen. 

"We can go to the border together," says Valen. "I don't want you going near there by yourself. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you," Kane agrees, incredibly relieved. "I'm... really glad to not have to go back there alone."

Liz bids them goodbye once everything's in order. Now, they just have to wait. Kane supposes that Sam can take the couch.

Valen thinks the same thing. "Sam, is the food you have now sufficient? And do you want to take a shower or anything? Do you want to go to sleep on the couch? We can give you a blanket."

Sam explains to them that the food he has now is fine and he should be okay until tomorrow, and accepts all the amenities offered to him.

Valen gives him time alone in the bathroom. While they wait, Valen lies down on the floor in front of the cat, who is pretending not to see him. "I suppose I have to name this cat now anyway."

"Yes." Kane agrees, going to pet her. "I've never had a pet before, I'm actually quite excited. I know you used to have another cat."

"You haven't?" says Valen. "That's so sad. Were you just not that interested in animals?"

"I wasn't. I think... it may have helped, if I'd had a pet. I regret it now. I suppose it's never too late to start." Kane scritches behind her ears. The cat soaks in the attention and starts purring.

"It makes me sad to think about how miserable and lonely you must have been for so long," says Valen. "I know it's not a justification for the way you acted, but it's really not hard to imagine why you behaved the way you did when you were treated like that." Valen knows Kane had been a monster, but...so were half the vampires walking around in public. It was harder to not be a monster here. If he was anyone else, Valen probably wouldn't feel bad for him, knowing it was partially a hell of his own creation, but this is his Kane, and it's so sad imagining Kane being alone and unloved, without even the comfort of an animal to fend off his depression.

"No, that's..." Kane lowers his voice, mindful of the nearby terrified human. "No one else was beating their humans. I had… anger issues, and I took it out on him. I didn't realize that until later. I may have captured him to please my family, but everything after that was all me. I wish I could just..." He sighs. There's nothing he can do to take back what he's done. "At least we're helping Sam, and Jim is safe now."

"I suppose so." Valen had a bad habit of making excuses for people, trying to be a little bit too understanding. That's probably what kept him from realizing how awful Priscus was for the longest time. The way Kane pushes back and takes responsibility is refreshing. "What's done is done. And now we only have to worry about treating the cat well." He rubs under the cat's chin, feeling the purr. "I want to name her Snowball, but that feels incredibly uninspired."

"Too late. The second it left your mouth, it became official," Kane says with a smirk. "Hello, Snowball," he coos.

Valen smiles. The cat seems to enjoy the attention, and Valen can't be happier sitting here next to Kane with the cat Priscus had tried to use to manipulate him.

When Sam is done in the bathroom, Valen gets him a blanket and a pillow and sets him up on the couch. "If you need anything, you can come wake me up," he offers. "As soon as the sun sets, we'll get you home."

Sam huddles under the blanket. "Th-thank you."

The next evening, Kane battles nerves as they prepare to meet Liz at the border. Going back to human territory. He shivers at the thought. He packs up any uneaten human food he'd bought for Sam for him to take home with him. "If, if we run into any hunters who aren't Liz, you'll vouch for us, right?" he asks Sam anxiously. "Please. We can't go back to- to that."

Sam looks like a deer in the headlights upon hearing this request. "Uh..."

"He just means you'll, you'll tell them we're letting you go, right?" says Valen. "We're had...bad experiences with vampire hunters in the past, and we don't want any violence. That's all."

Sam looks between them, then nods fearfully.

Valen is about to offer to drive them there, before he remembers the sad fate of his car, sitting tireless deep in human territory. He'll have to get a new one. If they want to drive, Kane will have to do it.

Kane has not yet gotten around to purchasing a new car, but he opts to rent one. He figures driving might be more comfortable for everyone, particularly Sam, and that's faster. He goes out at sunset for one, and comes back shortly after.

"Next stop, human territory." he announces, trying to keep the mood light despite how deathly afraid he is.

Valen also has to suppress his fear. The resulting two vampires that look artificially happy unsettles Sam a little, but he starts getting more at ease the closer they get to the border.

It gets harder for Valen to remain calm when they come into sight of the signs marking the border with huge skulls on them, but he's relieved to see Liz parked. "Oh there she is, dear, over there." Please God please I don't want anyone else to see us here just take the human and leave so we can bolt.

Kane drives over to Liz and rolls down his window. "Hello, ma’a- Liz."

"Long time no see," Liz jokes. She peers into the car. "You must be Sam. It's okay, you're safe now. I'm gonna get you home."

Sam bolts out and into Liz's truck, not even closing the door to Kane's car or saying goodbye, keeping his little bundle of food in his lap and hunkering down in the back seat.

"There aren't any other hunters near, are there?" says Valen. "I doubt they would follow us over the border, but..."

"Nah, you're good. I even let my branch know what was going on to make sure you wouldn't run into trouble. You can relax," Liz assures him.

Kane does the opposite of relax. So many hunters know they're here. They need to get out of here. "W-well, we should probably be going. Thank you."

"Yeah, gotta get him home," Liz agrees. She gives Valen a friendly wave goodbye.

"Thank you, Liz!" says Valen. "Good luck, Sam! Stay safe!" 

Sam does not respond.

As soon as they leave, Valen taps Kane's shoulder with increasing urgency. "Go. Go go go go go. Speed." If they crash, there's no human in the car anymore to get hurt.

And....he wants to get home to see his cat again.

"Yes. On it." Kane floors it, and the speed does not decrease until they get back to civilization.

***

When they get back home, Bellamy's voice is coming through the answering machine: "-and I'm quite worried by now, honestly, I'm aware this is my seventh call tonight and it makes me appear a lunatic, but please call me back, my dear. As I've said previously, my number-"

Kane runs to the phone and takes it off the hook. "Bellamy?"

"...Kane?"

"It's really good to hear your voice again." Kane says softly. "You got my letter?"

“I did,” Bellamy affirms.

Neither of them quite know what to say for a moment.

Kane breaks the silence, smiling at Valen. “We have a cat now. Do you want to…come over and pet her?”

･ﾟ:* THE END *:･ﾟ

***

K&J x MMSS crossover taglist:

@barebarb

@cc1010foxy

@emcscared-whumps

@hurtpluscomfort

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@pigeonwhumps

@secretwhumplair

@some-thrilling-heroics

@t0rture-me

@thecyrulik

@thejinglingcourtjester

@vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

@whuarri

@whump-cravings

@whump-my-heart-away

@whumpycries

@wolfeyedwitch

@whump-addict

@why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

#whump #vampire whumpee #K+J #angst #whumpblr #hurt/comfort

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXV

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. Chapters to be added as they come out. On AO3 here. Warning: this chapter contains references to previous ab*se (read as s*xual), as well as general vague hints at s*xual activity. If you find yourself uncomfortable, skip this chapter and come back when Chapter 26 is out.

Your mind was a little less pliable now that he had given a counter-drug to the anesthesia.  Memories and thoughts were labyrinthine in both contents and the way they presented themselves.  A natural defense mechanism.  Some were shattered, reflecting and refracting Zandik's own visage rather than the scenes they should have been playing.  Were these modified, purposefully broken? 

Zandik trekked through the maze of crystalline surfaces easily enough, despite your mind's attempts to protect itself.  Was it your shared bond that allowed him to walk through your memories as though he was simply hiking through the Avidiya Forest?  Or were you worn down, too busy protecting other parts of yourself?  Had Omega simply left all of the channels open, confident he would be the sole occupant of the space?

All were possible.  What a shame it could not be isolated.

Perhaps there would be a time and a place for such a thing.  After all of this.

He was getting ahead of himself, though.  It would be best to ensure your mind was, relatively, in one piece first.

Omega said he could make better use of the soulmate bond, or so he arrogantly claimed.  Zandik relied so heavily on himself and only himself that of course his best Segment would hold the same sentiment about its own existence and brilliance.  Only his perspective was correct, and inevitably, everyone else would see that truth.  That his own experiences were, in fact, universal.

Even you knew the cruelty of this world, the way it preyed upon those who were weaker, who did not seek to understand, to know, who did not dare to change.  The way you spoke of your patron in your last shared dream came back to him with haunting clarity.  Your comparison of talented individuals kept and shown off almost like prized livestock was strikingly different to your initial mention of private patronage.

Zandik reached out a gloved hand and brushed the smooth surface.  A scene played out for a split second and then disappeared.  The same occurred with another fragment, although instead it displayed a moment that was different than the one before. 

Each fragment held only a portion of the whole picture.  It stood to reason, then…

The Harbinger arranged the shards back into what seemed to be their full vision but it remained incomplete.  Several parts were missing and yet there were no remnants nearby, no remainders to attempt to slide into place.  Now that enough data was assembled, the memory played on a loop.

He saw you, young and vibrant and naive, left behind during a game of hide and seek.  The landscape was familiar, the grass a little more blue than green; Fontaine’s countryside across the river from Sumeru.  He’d been there before.

You were alone, wandering until you finally returned to the chateau just around dinner, berated for worrying everyone.

It skipped in portions, jumping from one part to the next with no context.  But clearly, those nonexistent sections were important.  The entire afternoon was missing.

As Zandik continued on, he noticed only some of the memories were fractured, which only further emphasized the missing portions.  Either the whole memories were of no great significance or they hadn't been found.  And it soon became crystal clear from the other memories he skimmed his fingers over, as one did to a dusty surface uncovering the smooth lacquer beneath, that it was much more the latter.

When it came to your actual foundational education, you surpassed everyone.  Friendships were shallow, partnerships on compositions at best, and you filled the space with skill, with drive.  Nights he would have spent pouring over books and diagrams and mechanical parts, you spent teaching yourself difficult pieces, drafting your own compositions.  Musical notation and the echoes of your strings were your constant companions.

He could feel his pulse race at your playing, mere echoes to what you would eventually be able to do.  Even then, you were capable of drawing reactions from audiences.  Not even fully fledged in your passion and skills and already it was as though your cello was made of his (almost non-existent) heartstrings.  

As you grew older, you learned titles and flattery, as expected of you.  You needed to win over potential sponsors and Fontaine’s social structure was, at best, nothing but a game on the surface.

At its worst, it made his own experiments look tame.

Such a world was Pantalone’s realm more than his own.  Zandik, by comparison, preferred the neutral ground of knowledge and the power that came with it.  Power over people was intriguing only insofar as it achieved beneficial results.  Zandik cared little for the ego and position of others.

He found some of his best subjects from situations born of a corrupted power structure.  People that were so desperate to be free that his presence, that of the Second Harbinger known for nothing more than his disregard for humanity itself, was a blessing.

Just because he knew did not mean the rest of your subconscious was tame to experience, however.

Zandik swallowed, willing away the sickeningly tight tug from his chest down to his stomach.  Your patron was a poor actor, his efforts barely disguised, and his servants more than willing to turn a blind eye.  Your passion was interrupted, practices ruined when your concentration was broken from wandering hands pretending to play at flattery.  If you did not do as he asked, you played for hours non-stop, fingers cracked and joints locking up.  More than once, you found your instrument in ruins only to have to bring it to the very person who broke it and beg for an advance on your stipend to get it fixed.

Of all the things you did mention… 

But why would you have said anything about such experiences?  He certainly never mentioned the stonings, the pitchforks, the beatings, let alone his own status and the power he held now (although you'd forced his hand on the latter).  None of it mattered, anyway.

Why would you ever have wanted to think about any of this again? 

Not to mention, these memories were whole, completely untouched and unbroken.  Omega likely hadn't seen them.  But given how long you'd been under, it was only a matter of time.

In another scene, he watched you, toes in the tide, your gaze far off in the distance.  In one hand, a letter that held your freedom; at your feet, a glimmer of gold shining in the sparkling water.  You bent down to pick it up and only seemed more resolved, knuckles white as you gripped the golden stone housed in Fontaine's signature swirls of raging waves. 

A Vision wasn't required for a soulmate bond.  That much he knew.  Plenty of people who weren't allogenes received a soulmate.  The supposed Blessing was not mutual exclusive.

You stood up to your patron, carved your own path, all without raising a weapon or using your Vision beyond absolute necessity.  You sold your compositions but continued in the orchestra, part of a group and yet never truly assimilated.  An ache, dull and familiar, sat in his chest.  The passionate and the driven were doomed to always be just on the outside, never truly part of the world that they poured themselves into.  Even now, within a group that was, ideally, as close to home as one such as either of you could have, it was almost impossible to truly belong.

All of this did beg the question of when, for you, the Celestial bond began.  For surely if this had happened after you began dream-sharing, you would have mentioned it.  He would have noticed.  His observation skills were second to none.

Dreams were unheard of in Sumeru, for those who hailed from the nation post-Cataclysm.  He'd never experienced such a thing, not until you.  Which meant the conditions needed to be right for both of the individuals involved, not just one.  He'd long been Second Harbinger, created Segments of himself to preserve his perspectives, set up dominos in a game that no one else could begin to comprehend. 

It stood to reason that it was only when you'd begun to start your own path that Celestia saw fit to intervene.  The Divine was cruel that way.

The shattered memories began to create a pattern as Zandik kept going; they were innocuous points in your timeline but imperative nonetheless.  Omega was nowhere to be found in your memory banks. 

But he'd been here. 

Splicing together memories, leaving holes in others.  He was applying a technique used with pruning branches of Irminsul and splicing them into different timelines; an experiment that had been done simply to see if it could be done at all.  That technique was, of course, from before Zandik realized there was a better way that preserved the past path and provided more opportunity.  Forking was far more beneficial, although to some extent he did refine as he went.

Strong-willed through you were, there was only one of you and you were not a strong combatant by any means.  Zandik clenched his fist, remember how poorly his first few Segments had gone, how he'd overloaded his own being and his own memory banks and—

His feet walked a path of their own accord and it wasn't long before he found the augmented memories, found you.  Or rather, found the dreams in which you were confined.  Omega had woven a tapestry of a life together, started as children (founded on a lie; he was centuries too old for this to be the truth), based on what seemed to be coincidence.

Green eyes as verdant as the fauna he so often hid behind as a child watched you, took advantage of stolen time.  Cryptic hints that nudged the parts of your brain to remember.  Such interference cracked the foundation of the dream as you noticed subtle but true differences.

Of course, you would.  You were detail-oriented, incredibly so.  You had no use for the youngest Archon; you were the one who barely touched your own Vision, who made something of yourself without the help of the Gods.  If anything, the little sapling should fear you. 

It was no surprise to see Omega attempt and fail to wear a guise that didn't suit him.  In no time, his faults (Zandik's own faults, the original reminded himself), slipped through the seams.  Zandik felt the tremors in his fingers long before he recognized the expressions you began to wear again as Omega's selfishness took root.  You bore the bruises, the touches, the supposed ecstasy, with a fractured bliss that never reached your eyes.

What did he care?  Why should he care for you?

You, who were the secondary reminder of the shackles he wore, were far greater than any pitiful Archon.  Especially the one who would never be acknowledged by her own Nation.

You, who did not think twice about following a Harbinger despite the shock his presence brought to the library.  It was you that demanded to know where you stood and what position he held, understanding the bigger picture of the role thrust upon you.  You lacked physical strength, you lacked almost everything that made a good warrior and fighter, but you never wanted to be one, did you?

You, who plucked and placed and played notes that meant nothing and yet somehow managed to make them filled with everything all at once.

You, you, you…

The sight of you, cradled—no, smothered—by Omega, faded as he pulled himself out of the neural network and the small Akademiya space came back into focus again.  He couldn't afford to cause an emotional anomaly for you that would present itself on the scans and he couldn't stand the way his body reacted to Omega's treatment of you.

Funny, how he could so easily push this aside usually for anything else.  But you were a thorn in his side, a presence he could never be rid of, a soothing melody that quieted all parts of him…

Zandik reached out and unclasped his mask, placing it on the table with all the other paraphernalia he no longer needed.  The bottles and needles were as pointless as the face covering.  The tiny part of him that held out hope, a consistency across every single fork of himself he ever created, burned in agony as it reminded him that you were stronger than anyone gave you credit for.  That did not mean you deserved any part of this or that you should have had to endure it again (let alone once). 

There was no going back to before.  He could not undo this.  He could not fix this, not easily, and certainly not in an instant. 

But if someone like him had to be given a soulmate, it would not be someone with a weak will or weak heart.  You were neither.

Between the drug he'd given you and the blasted Archon's interference, you had the tools and the knowledge you needed.  You would wake of your own accord.  It was only a matter of time.

_____________________

Perhaps you aren’t so useless after all, Zandik…

Omega chuckled to himself as he redirected a tiny amount of processing power while ensuring he maintained and occupied the dream.  The wonderful part of being mostly machine was, in fact, the almost limitless capacity to accomplish numerous tasks at once.  As long as he diverted resources appropriately, he could make the most efficient use of his faculties and manage a maintenance schedule that wasn’t disastrous.  Something the younger Segments had no concept of.

Something that Prime had perfected himself.

Did you know, perhaps, that your beloved was no longer entirely human?  Few did.  Omega doubted that you knew at all, considering you never knew his true name before now.

His master thought he was being stealthy and if Omega had been occupied with the Sages, he likely wouldn’t have noticed the crawling sensation at all.  He could always feel the other Segments and Prime himself, whether in the form of a thought that wasn’t necessarily his own or akin to a limb that was no longer there.  Prime experienced something similar on the other end, or so Omega knew, given he was the closest to Prime in both likeness, mentality, and memory.

Nothing about the strange wave of emotion that passed through the private Akasha network was stealthy.  His chest constricted and his stomach twisted itself in a way that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.  Such sensations were foreign to a person, to a machine, such as himself.  They weren’t his to experience but they rippled through him all the same.

Prime hadn’t started with his emotions first; in fact, his memories and emotions were the two things he never augmented despite the anguish they seemed to bring.  A poor decision.  

Almost as poor as not taking what Celestia laid out for him in both power and connection.

#fic: dream a little dream of me #genshin impact dottore #dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #soulmate au #tw: dark #cw: dark content

[zonaenthusiast]

One Piece Live Action

EPISODE 1: ROMANCE DAWN - review

Here is the first of my reviews on what I liked and didn't like about the first episode of the live action. I have been writing as I watched the episode for the second time, so it is written in chronological order with references to future episodes.

To begin with, I was very happy with Roger's execution scene. I have to admit that, as soon as Garp appeared giving the previous speech, I doubted if it was like that in the manga. I had to look it up and I'm still hesitating, but I couldn't find anything about Garp being present that day. It's a pretty cool addition, it makes a lot of sense: Roger originated the great age of piracy while Garp is a very proud marine who works every day to erradicate it, his face when Roger says his last words is magnificent. And for those who watch the live action without knowing the original story it means nothing, but for those of us who do know what Garp and Roger really are to each other it was great.

From the beginning you start to notice that the characters are slightly different (I think the Luffy in the manga wouldn't know what mutiny means) but Oda was right when he said that there are things that maybe his Luffy wouldn't say, but it looks good because the words are spoken by Iñaki. Luffy for me is the one who behaves the most different from his original version and I'm not sure he convinces me all the time, but I think our Luffy would be very difficult to translate to the screen by a real actor without being unbearable. Luffy's case is more obvious but it will happen with Nami and Sanji as well, their personalities are very intense and for a live action it was necessary to tone them down.

Alvida is wonderful from the first minute, the actress is a 10/10 in all her scenes (Ilia, please call me, I am free on weekends), confident and menacing and sometimes ridiculous. Perfect. Koby more of the same, Morgan Davies has done a great job playing the scared Koby from the beginning. I loved the first scene of Luffy and Koby together.

What I didn't like so much is the battle against Alvida, the action is one of the weakest points of the series and they have been smart to reduce it just to the necessary because most of them are just barely good enough.

However, one of my favorite things about the live action is how they've connected the characters from the different arcs, especially the villains, it gives it a greater scale that in the manga we didn't see until much later. In the Marineford saga especially, we started to see that many characters know each other because of x or y, because they have a common past, because they did business together, whatever. I thought it was smart to add something like that already. In this chapter, for example, we have Morgan mentioning that he was the one who arrested Kuro.

I say this because adding the fun fact that Zoro killed the previous Mr 7, something that in the manga is only mentioned in passing a whole saga later and has no importance and using it to justify his presence in Shells Town, is brilliant to me. The my favorite is number 1 thing? Foreshadowing at its best if we have a second season.

I'm also of the opinion that while Luffy has the worst action scenes because in the end seeing the fruit is weird at times, Zoro has the best ones. Fellow Zoro stans, I don't know if you feel the same way I do but they are a delight to watch for me. Mackenyu, you are glorious.

Shanks... I liked him but my god, the hair. What is that, is that a wig? is that his hair with a bad dye? I don't know but it looks terrible, the whole wig thing in live action is a complaint I have. The series has opted for an artificial look on purpose and you can tell, similar to the series A Series of Unfortunate Events (and it was a good idea because the gyojins probably would not have worked otherwise), but the hair department doesn't convince me. Also, Makino seemed a bit weird to me, if she hadn't been characterized at the beginning I wouldn't have thought it was her, but then she has a scene with Luffy (small Luffy, you did great too!) in which I did appreciate her personality better.

Another thing about this live action… is that it's not subtle at all, Oda is a master of show don't tell and the difference starts to show soon. Luffy doesn't go around asking people what their dreams are in the manga (he does it only in very few occasions) and I think they could have worked on the script a little more to see how Luffy, without asking directly, inspires people to tell him those things.

We move on to the bar, the moment when Luffy, Zoro and Nami see each other for the first time (kind of, because Luffy and Nami notice Zoro but he doesn't notice them and Luffy and Nami don't seem to notice each other either). Very well done too, I loved it and it's one of my favorite scenes in the whole live action. Luffy eating with Coby, Zoro picking a fight (my god, he is FINE) and Nami taking advantage of the chaos to get what she needs. The stuff with Zoro, Rika, Helmeppo and the rice balls, even if it's different, makes me infinitely happy that it was kept because it's important to understand that Zoro is much less of a dick than he appears to be.

Luffy, tell Sanji about the rice balls, this fandom is begging you.

I also found it curious that they have chosen to insist a lot on Zoro being a bounty hunter, we see Zoro emphasizing several times throughout the live action on the money they provide him, and it's striking because it's not like that at all in the manga. It gives him less of a sucker vibe and that makes me a little sad because I really like that Zoro became a bounty hunter because he needed to eat and he didn't know how to get back to his village. I like my men dumb as a rock. I assume they did it that way because they wanted to tell us what he is but what he doesn't want to be, just like it happened with Coby and it's going to happen with all the mugiwara, so Luffy can ask him the question about what his real goal is.

Anywat, both the first time Luffy and Zoro talk and Luffy and Nami talk inside the navy base are perfect, you can see the differences in their personalities from the first moment. I will always defend that meeting Luffy changes the lives of all the mugiwaras but the most obvious changes are in Zoro and Nami (maybe Robin), they owe Luffy their literal personalities.

I think Zoro breaking into Helmeppo's room while the latter is naked and acting cool with the Wado Ichimonji is cinema, I'm glad they included it. The haircut was a great touch.

Luffy and Nami's shenanigans inside the navy base, from the safe robbery to the fight in the courtyard where they are joined by Zoro... I really like that. The part where Zoro is about to leave but decides to turn around and fight them fits his personality from the beginning very well but it's actually pretty Nami coded too, she has a scene like that in Orange Town in the manga where she almost leaves but in the end feels bad for leaving them to their fate and comes back. Zoro and Nami are very similar and this live action highlights it a lot, we'll see that (episode 5, my beloved).

The battle against Morgan is short and concise, and I repeat: I think they did very well not to drag the action out longer than necessary. The part of Zoro carrying the safe and leaving Nami speechless before such a display of brute force I personally liked it a lot, it's a clear reference to the scene of Luffy and the cage in Orange Town in the manga.

The Shells Town escape also is a great idea. I already wrote a post about why I don't agree at all that Zoro's loyalty to Luffy is immediate and Nami certainly isn't loyal from the start. That they don't say yes to Luffy, but that it's more of a we have to get out of here and right now these other two people are the only allies I have works very well with them because it's exactly how they started in the manga as well.

To finish with this first review, I want to mention a last point in favor of the live action: increasing Garp's presence in the saga and making him the big antagonist present in all the arcs, I will go deeper into this in other chapters. It's very important to see how his relationship with Koby develops (and to think that this was written before the recent events in the manga, good lord).

And Buggy has the best first appearance of all. My king.

ko-fi

#one piece #luffy #monkey d luffy #zoro #roronoa zoro #nami #koby #helmeppo #alvida #captain morgan #live action #episode 1 #romance dawn #review

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Do you think Misha is really straight? Because that would mean Cockles wasn't real all along.

i've been kinda-sorta avoiding answering the asks i have along these lines, partly because i have real life stuff going on, partly because i'm obsessed with ofmd, and partly because i haven't really wanted to get into my feelings about it, because i'm still a little upset.

but look. not to overhype my credentials, but as one of the leading cockles experts out there... misha is not a straight man. i don't like calling him a liar, but he's not a straight man. i know too much about him, i've watched him do and say too many queer things for it to be even a possibility in my mind.

look, this is what happened. misha came out as bi. without prompting, he named himself as bisexual. if you watch the video, there is simply no way for it to have been a misunderstanding or for him to have misspoken. he came out.

that was on a friday, and he didn't post the "i'm straight" tweets until monday, after a full weekend of interacting with con-goers who treated him as having come out, and he never corrected them. some people claim that he was upset about the attention his coming out was getting, but i've heard of no accounts of him telling anyone "there's been a misunderstanding", only that he was potentially distressed about the media attention.

before misha's tweets, stands, the company that sells spn merch and is, i think, owned by misha (or at least closely tied to him?), sent out an email pushing bi spn merch with a reference to misha's coming out. stands posted a tweet about supporting "a queer man". that tweet was soon deleted. later that same day, misha's "i'm straight" tweets were posted, after more media outlets started reporting it.

i don't know what happened exactly, but i suspect that misha has a lot more trauma than any of us know about. we know that he was homeless for years as a child, we know he was bullied, we know he self harmed as a kid, we know he had a really difficult family situation and he moved around constantly, changed schools constantly, had a hard time making friends, was fat as a child and bullied for it.

it's pretty easy to observe that misha developed his characteristic bombastic overconfidence (calling himself "the overlord", etc) as a way to compensate for his actual insecurity, that he insulated himself from his pain and loneliness by intentionally standing out as "weird" by choice instead of by force. when we get glimpses of misha's underlying pain and vulnerability, it becomes pretty easy to see just how much of his personality has been deliberately constructed as means of self-protection.

and my point in saying that, is that despite all the confidence he projects, i think misha is genuinely terrified of coming out and being publicly known as queer. i don't know if this is due to general cultural homophobia or if he has personal trauma at the hands of homophobia, but when you examine all the pieces of his life i don't think it's difficult to imagine that he has at some point been traumatized by homophobia and it's left a lasting mark. he's very quick to stand up for other queer people, but he seemed damn near fucking terrified to call himself bisexual, even in a room full of his fans, a large number of whom had just identified as bisexual too. he's made "weird" his brand, has never hesitated to do bonkers off-the-wall shit, but it took him until the age of 47 to develop the nerve to come out.

i don't know if the backpedaling was due to personal trauma or professional worry, but i think he started panicking and dove back into the closet. personally, i feel like he should have foreseen it being picked up by the media, considering that he is famous, but i can't be angry or disappointed in him for going back into the closet. whatever the cause, i'm sure that it's a valid one.

mostly, it just... makes me really sad. like i said, i've seen enough over the past nine years i've been a cockles scholar that i know he isn't straight. and i just find it fucking heartbreaking that this man carries so much pain and fear in his heart that even after he worked up the courage to say it out loud, it still has such a powerful hold on him that he felt the need to lie about who he is.

it's just... fuck, it's just an utterly miserable thing to have to witness. you could see both the joy and the terror in him when he came out, and i was so happy for him and so proud of him. i'm not not proud of him now, but it just makes me so profoundly sad.

i haven't been able to laugh at any of the jokes and memes about it, because i care about him as a person and i genuinely think he carries a lot of unresolved trauma here. now he's the butt of a thousand jokes, and if he ever does choose to come out again it's going to be so much harder and messier for him. he has such a kind heart, so he probably feels like he's let his queer fans down, he probably feels terrible about lying, he probably has no idea what to do now.

i just feel really awful for him and i wish he could the have peace and freedom he deserves.

#misha #cockles ask #wank for ts #homophobia tw #anonymous #ask

[gashface]

SHINE CONTESTANTS

Name: Mandy

Location: Futuristic San Myshuno

Age: 21

Pronouns: She/They

Story: So Mandy is a heavily cyber-augmented girl studying Robotics at the University in a cyberpunk reimagine of the Sims world. In the world she lives in, cyber modification is really common for everyone. She has glowing eyes and while she's usually depicted with a human skin tone she is entirely blue metal underneath. Her fave color is blue so she always has blue on her in some regard. She has albinism. She has a really wacky fashion style that usually consists of oddly matched silhouettes. She's really smart, hence robotics, but has the tenancy to speak without thinking. She LOVES singing and is working on a side music career as she studies, but is struggling to balance her newfound music popularity with her studies.

Created by: @skaterboisims

Name: Parker Winston

Location: Seattle

Age: 25

Pronouns: He/They

Story: My sim is Parker. He's genderfluid but prefers he/him and sometimes they/them. He grew up in a small, very religious town where being queer and loud weren't acceptable things. Being both, he decided to head for Seattle when he was old enough. He's an artist and has dabbled in anything creative he can get his hands on, from drag to tattooing to graffiti, he's done it all. Self-expression is the most important thing in the world to him and he shows that in his style, his art, and his hair dye. And though he likes to cling to his heavy grunge and emo styles, he's never met a color he didn't like or a pattern he wasn't willing to serve with all his heart.

"If I had to describe myself, it would be if like Barbie was in The Crow instead of Brandon Lee." - Parker

Created by: @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

Name: Dillion Carter

Location: Houston, TX

Age: 25

Pronouns: No specific pronouns but they refer to themselves as They/Them, She/Her and He/Him, occasionally.

Story: Dillion's story starts with a graffiti-riddled alleyway. Being abandoned by well-known junkies, a screaming baby was found by the police and then placed into foster care. It was not easy for the first decade of their life. A lot of blood, betrayals, and fistfights were not lost. Eight homes returning her that used to be intrigued. No one had really wanted a child that would barely talk, but also not know when to give up and back down. Until one day, the Carter Family had taken them in as a preteen and had not returned them. It's been history ever since. The adopted family was black and Dillion was as pale as could be, but the whispers did not deter them from growing even closer and loving each other. Dillion's quiet yet useful, bold, and confident demeanour has landed them two jobs: a mechanic and underground boxer by day, and recommended by their sisters in the fashion industry— a model by night. It is those same sisters that had shown them the "Shine" modelling competition and convinced them that it was good exposure. That Dillion was worth so much more than what they had. Dillion responded with a smirk, a shrug, and a "Why not?" They'll just let their body speak for itself.

Created by: @mewo-ita

Name: Rin Miura

Location: Born in Mt. Komorebi but currently living in San Myshuno

Age: 19

Pronouns: She / Her

Story: rin's a college student, an aspiring fashion designer, but most importantly - a loser!! <3 She dreams of creating fashionable pieces for everyone in the world, but gets too caught up in the details, and gets way too carried away .. so she mostly just makes (insane-looking) clothes for herself. she thoroughly documents the entire creation process online; her other hobbies include doll collecting drawing pet training making music cooking baking building furniture and honestly just whatever the hell comes to her mind!!! shes very very happy-go-lucky, sweet but a bit airheaded and also VERY loud :3

Created by: @glittermutt

Name: Eli Sims

Location: Willow Creek

Age: 24

Pronouns: She/her

Story: Elizabeth Gil is the daughter of a famous fashion designer and a famous model, so she's known everything about the industry since she was very little. She always wanted to be a model like her mom and she would watch her during photoshoots and fashion shows. When her parents noticed her interest in the industry to started preparing her for her debut in it. Her first runway gig was at 15 years old for her father's spring couture show. She kept working under him for the next 3 years, barely catching a break, until she turned 18 and immediately left home and her career with her father's brand. She lost contact with her parents and nothing's been heard from her since then. In other news, the latest high-end model Eli Sims, known for her outstanding white hair, is opening the Chanel show at New York fashion week this evening, we wish her the best of luck!

A/N: yeah so basically my sim is a nepo baby that left her family,, changed her appearance and got back in the game all on her own. Her parents don't know she's modelling again, and every time her father has tried to get her on one of his shows she's declined, she does not wanna see them again bc of the awful way they treated her

Created by: @simsinfinitylt

Name: Ember Arendse

Location: San Myshuno

Age: 23

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs

Story: Growing up in San Myshuno with a very artistically inclined and supportive family, Ember has always taken to all things creative. Lead singer and guitarist of ‘The Gutter Rats’, they always found comfort in expressing themselves in front of an audience, so though their area of expertise lies in freelance photography; They have been curious as to what it would be like to be in front of the camera.

Created by: @wolfrynn313

Name: Charline Morel

Location: Brindleton Bay

Age: 21

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: Charline "Charlie" Morel was born as the first of two daughters to an overly strict wealthy family. The Morels were a family of musicians, and every child born to the family was expected to be a musician, and those in the direct line were expected to inherit the family instrument manufacturing business (or whatever it was, Charlie really couldn't care less). Unfortunately, Charlie did not inherit her family's ear for music - she knew she wanted to be a creative soul, but honestly, she wasn't very good at any of it. Her parents forced her to take singing lessons because it was the only thing musical she was any good at, but she always wanted to do something else. She didn't know what that was until she graduated from high school - she wanted to model. She had tried taking pictures once, but quickly she realized she preferred being in front of the camera instead. So she packed up her belongings and moved out - not terribly far away, but out of her parents' clutches. Charlie is a stubborn, self-assured girl who is determined to prove herself and make a name in something other than music. Once she gets an idea in her head, she is determined to see it through to its finish - or crash and burn trying. (Even if her inner perfectionist cries out in terror at the prospect.)

Created by: @cyazurai

Name: Nicky Soufan

Location: San-Myshuno

Age: 19

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Since childhood, Nicky dreamed of becoming a model. The parents were not happy about this, because they thought that she would become a doctor like them, but they could not interfere with their daughter's desire and tried to help her in any way they could. At the age of 13, they sent her to a modelling school, where the girl stayed for 4 years. Not having received the proper result, the parents took Nicky out of there. She was in despair and did not know what to do now, because the modeling school took away from her all the desire to go to her dream. One day, Nika's friend, a photographer, invited her to his shooting to work on his hand. After this photo shoot, the girl again had a burning desire to become a model.

Created by: @rosamadchen

Name: Willow Young

Location: Willow Creek

Age: 30

Pronouns: she/her

Story: Willow is a new coming Simstuber. She is a mother of one & married to Irving Young. She loves to make art and travel and make woodwork. Willow is a very cheerful woman and she also loves taking photos. As friendly as she seems, she doesn't trust others easily. Willow hopes to become popular and rich. Willow always had an interest in modelling since she read magazines as a child.

Created by: @ohgeezhaddie

Name: Dawn Pepper

Location: StrangerVille

Age: 23

Pronouns: She/They

Story: Dawn is you typical 23 trying to branch out of her comfort zone. Her bold looks usually come from her bold and bizarre surroundings where she grew up. However as he daily part-time job in retail has completely bored her she finally wants to leave her comfort zone, meet new people, and explore new places!

Created by: @bigppton-jpeg

Name: Babylon Fleur Beppu.

Location: Glimmerbrook but was raised in Windenburg.

Age: 18

Pronouns: She/They

Story: Babylon is currently eighteen years old and was born on June 28, making her a Cancerian. Although she isn't aware, she is a fairy born of two ordinary townies. In my Sims Au, fairies are extinct and have been so for many years. She was born in Glimmberbrook but was raised in Windenburg.

Created by: @everythingaestheticlly

Name: Genie Fiorelli

Location: NO INFO PROVIDED

Age: NO INFO PROVIDED

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: NO INFO PROVIDED

Created by: @plumbobcrumble

Name: Su-Yen

Location: Korea

Age: 19

Pronouns: She/Her

Story: Su-yen is the youngest in a family full of models and actors. But Su-yen decided she wanted something else and tried to be a dancer. But now that she is a bit older she decided to follow in her mother's and older siblings' footsteps and do some modelling. The problem? Su-yen is reckless to the extreme. She is constantly injured from skating on trying to do stunts. She is often sporting bandages.

Created by: @dododoesstuffs

THANK YOU, EVERYONE, WHO ENTERED!

A FOLLOW-UP POST IS BEING SENT WITH FIRST WEEKS PROMPT!~

#Shine contestants #ts4 #sims 4 #SHINE #competition #HAVE TO POST IN GROUPS AS TUMBLR WONT LET ME PUT THEM ALL TOGETHER #sims 4 competition #sims4 #TS4 #sims4competition

[itsgoghtime]

Sweet Gingerbread Man

Words : 3643

CW: fluff. reader is sick with the flu. Ray being the purest being on the planet, slightly inaccurate timeline references. to indirectly quote Dan Aykroyd, “Ray is boyfriend material”

"We have..." Ray let go of my hand and looked at his watch. "Oh, about 30 minutes before the gingerbread is completely cooled for the second floor and we can start working with the first floor, because the candy windows will be set by then too." He took my hand back in his.

"And we have the regular ginger cookies to decorate, because we both know the house will be eaten if we don't make other cookies."

I smiled, looking towards the infamous ice skating rink.

"You know, we should go ice skating here sometime. I think you'd enjoy it." Ray offered, laughing at the incredulous look I gave him.

"Ray, dearest one, I've never been ice skating. I would be absolutely awful."

"Everyone is awful at first, dear. Besides, I'm not fantastic either." He looked towards the skate rental stand, and before I knew it, we were sitting on a bench just within the rink, putting said skates on.

"I still don't think this is a good idea."

"I know. But it will be fun!" Ray stood, taking my hands in his as we put our shoes in a cubby and started on the ice.

It was just as hard as I had assumed it would be, but with Ray's arm around me and with his coaching, I didn't feel as nervous.

"It's okay to look at your feet for a little bit, but you have to remember to look forward so you don't run into things. The footwork is like roller skating."

"Ray, I was never good at roller skating either."

He chuckled, kissing the top of my head. "I know. But you're doing great!"

Just like some cliche Christmas movie, it began to snow. We did a few more laps as I gained confidence, and then decided it was time to go home and work on the gingerbread house Ray had been poring over for about a week already.

We made it to the bench we had started at, and soon a woman and her probably 6 year old came and sat next to us. The child was obviously miserable with a cold, but begged her mom to stay.

Within seconds, the child sneezed. Right on me. The mom was apologetic, and I assured her it wasn't a big deal.

Ray and I put our shoes back on, and right before we exited the skating rink, he stopped.

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to say something, when I looked up at him.

"Hey, look." He pointed upwards at the arch, and I laughed. "Mistletoe."

"Dr. Stantz, you are such a hopeless romantic." I pulled him down by his scarf and kissed him, and we continued our walk to the Ecto-1 to drive home.

-------------------------------------- Back in the kitchen, with the cut gingerbread laying out on the counter and the frosting on the table with the first pieces, Ray was in his element.

Granted, I had spent countless hours making the dough and baking the dough, but Ray had a complete blueprint of this gingerbread house - with exact measurements (courtesy of his college degrees in architecture and engineering) so I gave him the liberty of cutting it all out and assembling it. In the end, it was going to look just like Hook and Ladder 8, and I had never seen him so excited about a gingerbread house.

He felt bad that he was inept at basic kitchen functions, but I reassured him I enjoyed doing it - as long as I had my dishes buddy, which he promised I would have.

"How are the windows going, love?" He called from the table, glasses on and focused on holding the corner together until the frosting set.

I looked at the candy thermometer, waiting a moment to respond with, "It's coming right along. Remind me what color you wanted them?"

"I think with just a tint of yellow so the lights glow through, don't you think?"

I hummed a yes, and pulled the boiling pot off the stove to add the drop of food coloring, and then to pour just enough into each cut out window to fill it. Of course, Ray had measured these windows and pieces to perfection, so I didn't have to worry about it leaking to the back of the piece and gluing itself to the parchment.

After cleaning the pan, because it's easier to clean while it's hot molten sugar still, I made my way over to Ray, kissing the top of his head.

"How's it looking so far? Look like home yet?" He asked, not moving a centimeter to keep his pieces straight.

"It looks great. What can I do to help?"

"If you can push my glasses up just a little bit that would be great, and..." I did as he requested, and he let go of the wall as the timer on the table went off, and pulled me into his lap. "You can be right here."

"Okay, but that's not doing anything."

"You don't have to. I mean, you can help me hold pieces, but until the windows are done drying, and until the first floor is assembled, you don't have anything to do." His smirk sent me into laughing fits.

"Alright, Stantz. I can sit and look pretty, I get it."

He kissed my nose, and began to put the next wall up.

We got the first floor done, Ray put in his lighting system he had made specifically for this house from the lab, and we furnished it, beginning to work on executing the plan for the second floor when we realized it was after two in the morning.

I yawned from the seat I had taken adjacent to his, and he chuckled. "Time for bed?"

Nodding, I took his outstretched hand and we snuggled up in bed, both passed out within ten minutes.

The next morning, Christmas Eve, in fact, I woke up in an empty bed - nothing new, I was sure Ray was already in the kitchen working on the house. I went to sit up, and felt a head rush, and a lot of pressure in my sinuses.

I couldn't quite figure out why I was feeling this way, but remembered the kid the day before, and then the slight pressure in my lungs that had been present last evening.

Fully sitting up, I sighed. I didn't want to get sick over Christmas - it was not only my favorite holiday, but also Ray's favorite time of year. He loved doing all the typical holiday things, and if I was sick, I couldn't go out and do them with him.

I went into the kitchen, and there Ray was, at the table as I had suspected. I smiled, going to get a glass of water to hopefully calm the pressure down a little bit.

"You're not feeling well, are you?" Ray asked. I hadn't even said anything.

"I mean..." I stopped myself, my voice incredibly dulled by my sinuses, and I coughed a bit, the sharp sensation hitting my lungs as I struggled to catch my breath.

Ray stood from his position, coming to gently take my chin into one of his hands.

"Now, my love, I can practically hear you overthinking this. You feel bad because we won't be able to go and do everything we usually do. But I need you to know it's okay, I'm not upset - you're my top priority. So let's get you feeling better, then we can look at doing something after, hm?" He wiped away the stray tear, and pulled me into his arms.

"You want to help me finish the house?" He mumbled into my hair.

I nodded, and after he had made me eat some toast (that's one thing I can make without completely screwing it up, Ray reminded me) and giving me some medicine while he took some extra vitamins, I took my place in his lap, sometimes just leaning into his neck and closing my eyes to alleviate the pressure in my head.

But he did finish the second and third floor, and we did decorate the house together, even if I wasn't doing as much as I usually would. It did end up being really cute, and Ray left it in its traditional spot as the table centerpiece.

"I think the Spenglers should be back from Christmas dinner shopping sometime soon." He kissed my forehead, putting his arms around me. I smiled. My cousin Charlotte and I had begun work for the Ghostbusters a few years back. She and Egon began dating a couple years into our arrangement, and they had encouraged Ray and I to go out. The rest, of course, was history, as they were married, and Ray and I had been officially dating for 4 years.

Ray's voice brought me back to reality a few moments later.

"You can skip out on movie night if you're not feeling up to it."

I shook my head. "No, I think I'll try and be awake and present for that. I'll keep my distance, of course. Don't want to get them sick. I think I need a nap before then though."

Ray led me back into bed, and set an alarm on his watch as he pulled me into his chest.

"You don't have to stay with me - I'm afraid I'll give you whatever illness this is."

"Hey love, I know you don't like being by yourself. I'll keep up on vitamins right along with you. Let's get you better, okay?"

I nodded, snuggling closer and passing out within minutes.

Ray left me about an hour in, to go and let the Spenglers know what was going on. They were both very understanding, as usual, and even opted to make soup for the evening.

Around an hour after that, Ray came back in the room, gently stroking my hair to wake me up without completely startling me.

I began to stir from my sleep, smiling gently at Ray as much as I could, now conscious and aware of how sick I felt again.

"You ready to eat something again, dearest? We have soup for you." I nodded slowly, but before I could get up and out of bed myself, Ray had picked me up into his arms and was carrying me to the couch. I nuzzled into his neck, and he gently set me down before going to retrieve the bowls.

"(Y/N), how are you feeling?" Egon asked from the opposite side of the couch, his arm draped over Charlotte's shoulders.

"Like the floor of a taxicab. Thank you for the soup though, I appreciate it more than you know." I held back a cough as Ray brought my unfinished glass of juice from earlier. It soothed my throat, and Ray put a blanket over the two of us, with the bowls of soup on the TV tray.

The movie began, and I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to finish my soup and that it alleviated my sore throat significantly. About halfway through the movie, I fell asleep on Ray's shoulder, and he chuckled.

What felt like an eternity passed, and I woke up in bed. I realized Ray had not woken up yet, but he always had a sense of when I was awake, and soon was stirring from his sleep too.

His eyes soon met mine, and he smiled. "Merry Christmas, beautiful."

"Merry Christmas, Ray."

"How are you feeling today?"

I gave myself a moment to think about how I was feeling, and nodded slightly, letting some of the pressure out of my lungs with a slightly suppressed cough. "Beginning to feel better."

"You know what will make you feel better?" Ray practically jumped out of bed at this, running to the dresser. He pulled out a package for me, holding something else behind his back.

I sat up, and took the wrapping off this present, and smiled. It was a classic ugly Christmas sweater I had mentioned offhandedly to Ray that I wanted, and here it was.

"I love it, thank you Ray." I kissed his cheek.

His smile only grew as he pulled out from behind his back, a matching sweater.

He wanted to match with me.

I took his face in my hands, touching our foreheads together. "I love you to the moon and back, Dr. Stantz. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He kissed my nose, and helped me pull the sweater over my head.

"Is it everything you wanted?" He asked, pulling his own sweater over his head.

I smiled, pulling my hands inside the cuffs of the sleeves. "I love it, Ray."

"You don't mind matching with me, do you?"

I smiled, taking his hand in mine. "Raymond. I am ecstatic to be matching with you."

His grin widened more than I had even thought possible.

It was around ten, but we spent till close to noon talking on the edge of the bed as I tried to convince myself to get up and going. Closer to noon, I stood up, getting a slight vertigo rush as Ray caught me with his arm.

"Woah, where do you think you're going?"

"There are things to be done - food to be made, presents to be handed out and..."

"Spengler and Spengler have that taken care of. You're alright, you need to rest today." I smiled at the Muppet Christmas Carol reference from the night before.

I made myself decently presentable, and Ray took me to the couch and started more Christmas movies.

"Egon, you're sure that..."

"(Y/N), I am 97 percent positive that we have everything covered. You need to rest and get back to full health."

"Egon, can you stir the pot on the stove for me?" The voice behind him asked.

"Yes, dear."

Ray and I watched them for a moment from the couch, as Egon placed the most tender of kisses to the top of his wife's head, brushing fingertips as he went to go stir whatever was on the stove.

"I knew they'd get together. I just knew it." Ray whispered.

I lightly tapped his arm, resting my cheek against his bicep. "They're the ones that got us together, Ray."

He chuckled, putting his hand on my arm. "You're absolutely freezing."

"I hadn't really noticed, but now that you say it..." I was very conscious of how cold I was in the moment, even just under the blanket, and how my nose was practically frozen and how tingly my toes were.

Before I could say anything, Ray was already adjusting, pulling me into his lap, tucking my feet under his thigh and taking the blanket to trap all the heat in.

"Any better?" He asked.

One thing about Ray I had always appreciated was how warm he always was. It not only was his entire personality, but he was a physically warm person. Literally always warm. I could think on one hand, times where Ray hadn't been warm, and it's because he was sick. But he wasn't sick now, and his warmth radiated like a heated blanket.

"Much better, Ray. Thank you." I leaned into his neck, where I put my nose that was so cold.

"Could've warned me on that one." He chuckled, pulling me just a little closer as the movie continued to play.

"I feel awful for not being able to help."

"It's alright, my love. Spengler and Spengler have it covered, we just want you to feel better."

From the kitchen, surprisingly enough from both of them, came the slightest ghost noise to imitate the Marley and Marley song. It sent the room into laughing fits, lifting my mood significantly about the whole situation.

"Ray, I don't know how you decided to come up with that, but there's this story..." Egon began.

Charlotte cleared her throat, and Egon smirked, turning away and letting that conversation topic go.

We spent the next few hours watching Christmas movies, snuggling on the couch as the Spenglers made Christmas dinner. I promised to make it up somehow, to which everyone gave me the most loving rolling of eyes I had experienced.

Winston showed up first, with his assigned stuffing. He said hello, and made his way into the kitchen to help with last minute set up.

Peter and Dana, with Oscar - soon came through the door too. Peter held the pie and the classic Jello that he took to any important event. They greeted us as they came in, and put their things in the lineup.

Dinner officially began, and after everyone had gone through, Ray left me on the couch to go get us food.

The television still had Christmas movies quietly playing, and I chuckled quietly at whatever scene was on. The sitting peanut gallery watched Ray's reaction, how he softened and how his eyes twinkled as he looked in my direction. The conversation at the table turned as soon as Ray made his way back to me.

"Egon, I have a very simple question for you, and I'm looking for an answer." Peter whispered.

Egon hummed, already preparing himself for what he knew was coming.

"Is Ray ever going to marry that girl? I mean, come on. Look at 'em!"

As if on cue, they all slightly turned to look at us, as I caught Ray looking at me, and he kissed my forehead.

Peter looked back at Egon expectantly, and Egon did nothing more than raise his eyebrows and slightly shrug his shoulders, trying to hide a smirk.

"I knew it!" Peter practically slammed his hand on the table, startling Ray.

"You knew what? What's going on?" He asked.

"Nothing, Ray. Egon is just confessing things to us."

*a few hours later*

The plates were abandoned, and paying attention to anything was abandoned as I began to doze off. Ray had me nestled between his legs, head on his chest as I slept, and people began to leave. He had chosen the perfect blanket - large enough to cover us both comfortably, but one that wasn't too warm and trapped the temperature we created together.

I couldn't breathe normally - as my nose was still stuffed, so I breathed out of my mouth and drooled ever so slightly onto the rag he had put there, which just endeared Ray even more than was already possible as he pulled me closer.

"Nice to see you guys, have a good night." Winston whispered as he left the room.

"I hope she feels better soon, we've been so worried about her!" Dana also whispered, as Ray gently ran his fingers through my hair.

"She'll be alright - she's a fighter, this one."

"I hope we can say the same of you, Ray." Peter chimed in, pointing to his ring finger, making Ray blush. He chuckled a little, putting his hand on Rays shoulder. "I'm just saying, we want an invitation to the wedding."

"You can bet you'll be one of the first - and only invites." Ray smiled, kissing my forehead. "She wouldn't want it any other way."

They smiled, finished their goodbyes and gently shut the door behind them.

"I was tempted to spill my guts for you Ray, but I care about you doing it how you want way too much to just tell anyone."

"Thanks, Egie - I appreciate it."

Egon took Charlottes hand, and told Ray they were going to be headed to bed.

"We'll be close behind ya. Don't want to wake her up quite yet."

We laid there for at least another ten minutes. Ray reflected on the Christmases we had spent together over the last four years, smiling through each one of them, then beginning to remember his Christmases before. The Christmases at college, the fights with his two siblings because he got more in the will than they did because he was the favorite child - being separated from them and even with their hatred towards him, still wishing they could spend a little time together. Maybe mend the relationships to something of a more congenial nature.

Ray remembered the Christmases with his parents - and thought on them with fondness. He wondered if they were looking down on us now, proud of what Ray had accomplished - proud of him for finding someone like me - that took such good care of him the same way he had always cared for other people.

I stirred in my sleep, slowly stretching and opening my eyes as much as they'd allow. I wiped the stray tears on Rays cheeks, and he held me just a little closer.

"Thank you for being my family." Was all he said, and I kissed his cheek.

"Anything for you, Raymond. Anything."

He smiled, taking a deep breath. "I still really like our matching sweaters."

I chuckled, coughing just a little at the end - improvement is improvement. "I do too, Ray. We should match more often." This made him chuckle, so I continued. "Maybe someday I can convince you to let me wear one of your suits at the same time - we can be Stantz and Stantz."

Ray thanked the heavens that I could not see his blush that crept up his face. Venkman's and Spengler's remarks floated freely between his ears as the blush continued, and he smiled.

"I think I'd like that."

I hummed, and he kissed the top of my head.

"And now, I think it is time to snuggle up and go to sleep, don't you think?" He whispered into my hair.

"Whatever you say, sweet cheeks."

He blushed again, chuckling, and picked me up into his arms to carry me to bed.

Ray couldn't have been happier with how Christmas turned out this year.

But next year brought him more excitement to think about - our first Christmas as the Stantzes.

That would have to wait - but for me, he was willing.

#ray #ray stantz #ray x reader #ray stantz x reader #ghostbusters #reader insert #oneshot #ghostbusters two #dan aykroyd #christmas oneshot

[btsgotjams27]

All Grown Up ~ JJK | 10

✨ title: all grown up | series ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: R/18+ ~ minors dni ✨ genre/au: romance, fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, humor, banter, smut, age gap, best friends little brother ✨ warnings: noona kink, older woman, younger man, kissing, oral (m,f), unprotected intercourse, significant age gap (9 years), confident Jungkook, cocky Jungkook, bratty Jungkook, crappy mom, but overall Jungkook is the sweetest, most romantic boy who's fallen in love | warnings for each chapter will vary ✨ author's notes: I won't be updating this series on Tumblr. This fic is inspired by the k-drama, Something in the Rain. ✨ author's notes 2: okay, so i do plan on editing the rest of this series! i just don't know when it'll be done. ✨ can also read on AO3 or Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] prev | next ✨ what are we doing?

✨ chapter 10 ~ the morning after | wc: 2.5k ✨ warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected intercourse, wrap it before you tap it folks

The soft pitter-patter from the rain was your alarm this morning - your favorite kind of day to wake up to. It’s been a long time since your bed was warm and cozy. Most nights and mornings were cold and lonely, but not this morning. This morning you found Jungkook sleeping peacefully on his stomach, his hair fluffy and disheveled, urging you to run your hands through it. You even found his little snores endearing.

It was easy to fawn over this version of Jungkook, mostly because of what happened last night. You couldn’t get it out of your head.

You moved a piece of hair away from his face and he softly stirred. You studied his face and saw the scar on his left cheek. Chuckling to yourself, you remembered when he and Yuna got into a fight when they were younger. You inched closer, nibbling on his ear lobe, trying to wake him. He groaned and began to stir. You continued to nibble until he peeked an eye open and a wide smile spread across his face.

“G'morning,” he mumbled, stretching his arms.

“Morning.”

“Have you been up long?”

“Mmhm. Long enough to make breakfast.”

“Really?” His eyes widened at the thought of breakfast. He was starving.

You laughed. “No, I'm kidding. I just woke up.” Mornings were not your thing, you were more of a night owl. And also cooking, not your forte, you could barely make a good pack of ramen.

“Mmm, let's cuddle and get order in.” He pulled you in for a hug and kissed your temple.

“That sounds like a dream, but I have some things to do.”

“Cancel them.”

“Yuna would kill me if I canceled on her. We're doing more wedding dress shopping.” You couldn’t imagine giving any kind of excuses to your best friend right now, especially with her wedding in full swing. The expectation of your involvement was high.

Jungkook groaned because you wouldn’t be able to get out of it. “How long until you have to leave?”

You sat up to check your phone. “I have two hours.” Two hours until you’d waste your life away drinking more champagne while your best friend tries on more wedding dresses.

“Good, that's more than enough time.”

“Enough time for what?” you asked, peering up at the sexy naked man in your bed.

“Time to redeem myself.

You laughed. “Are you referring to last night? It's fine.” You didn’t care that you weren’t taken care of, watching him cum was satisfying enough.

He shook his head. “Not for me, it's not.”

Intrigued by this man, you asked, “What are you suggesting then?”

He pulled you back into bed, having you straddle him. Even soft, his bulge felt sizeable. The oversized shirt you had on was in-between him and what he desired. He tugged at it, wanting you to take it off. You pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest and a pair of black lace undies. “I could get used to this view.”

You felt embarrassed and shy, and covered your face but he pulled you down for a kiss.

“I like these,” he said, gesturing at your undies.

“Well I had to put on something sexier because you made fun of my other pair last night.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Did I hurt your feelings?” Still leaning against his chest, he reached up to press his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet and tender, just enough so he could inhale you. The heat in your core began to ache for him to continue.

“Can I...?” he asked in a low, husky tone. He rolled you over on your back and leaned down to give you a soft peck. His body now hovering over yours, nibbling on your neck, marking you with kisses down your collarbone, then fully taking in your nipple, licking and suckling one, then moving onto the other.

You felt hazy as he continued. His fingers trace the outline of your curves, then circle your navel, continuously teasing you. Your already wet core waiting for him to devour it already. He kept lingering, almost avoiding what you knew he would do. “Are you going to keep teasing me, or are you going to do something about it?”

“Noona, so demanding,” he chuckled and smirked. He knew exactly what he was doing. He kissed the inside of your thigh and made his way down lower, getting closer and closer to your pulsing core. He slowly pulled down the wet cloth between him and what he wanted and threw it beside the bed.

He pressed in and kissed the spot above your slit. An electrifying wave went through your body as he continued kissing then licking between your folds. Throughout the years with U-Jin, he would never go down on you. It was always whatever he wanted, but Jungkook was different, he wanted to see you satisfied and pleasured by him. He wanted to see you crumble and cry out his name.

You carried on watching and you could feel him smile as he knew you were watching his every move. He quietly slipped a finger between your slit which made you squirm underneath him. Pumping it in and out as he buried his nose and tongue in your overly sensitive clit. “Fuck--Jungkook–”

Then he slipped another finger, which almost made you over the edge. You moaned loudly. He took it as a good sign he should continue. He sat up and continued to pump his fingers in and out. He wanted a better look at you collapsing helplessly in front of him.

“Noona, you look so fucking sexy right now.” He reached up to kiss you, then gently pulled on your bottom lip. You whined into his mouth as your orgasm continued to grow. “Can you be loud for me?”

“Kook, how are you fucking me so good with just your fingers? I can't wait to feel you inside me.” This man knows what he wants, and you were willing to give him whatever he wanted. He slipped back down to work his tongue on your wet pussy, pumping faster, flicking his tongue quicker until your walls sent a shockwave throughout your body. Moaning noisily, along with fucks and his name. Your body heaves slowly, coming down from its high. His digits continued to ride out your high, then he came up to lay beside you and gave a peck on the cheek as if he didn't just eat you out.

“So…how’d I do?”

Still out of breath, you looked over and shrugged. “Meh, I’ve had better.”

“Yah–” he cried out, propping himself up.

“I’m kidding. It was amazing, thank you.” You said, stating the obvious, as if your moans and cries weren’t enough to stroke his ego. He needed to hear you say it too.

It’s been a while since you’ve been touched and to be honest, you didn’t want it to stop. Your curiosity was getting the best of you. It’s been mere minutes since he made you cum and you were already wondering what position he’d want you in to fuck you properly. Leaning over, you placed a kiss on his lips, you could still smell your scent on him, which made your lust for him grow deeper.

“Shower?” You asked as you pulled away from him and sprang out of bed onto your feet. He couldn't help but ogle your bare ass as you walked away from him. Immediately, he followed suit.

You slid open the door to grab a towel for yourself and Jungkook. He insisted on drying you down and you fought him for a second before letting him have his way. You got out and grabbed your hairbrush. He stood behind you with his hands around your waist and chin on your shoulder, letting little droplets of water beading down from his hair onto you while giving you soft kitten kisses on your back. You were trying not to laugh from the kisses he continued to plant on you.

He dropped the towel that was barely hanging onto his waist, and he began tugging at yours, making you let go of it. You kicked your head back when his lips connected alongside your neck, and his hand slipped down to circle your clit. He was clearly aroused as his dick poked into your back. Your eyes caught him in the mirror, watching you crumble again underneath his touch.

One hand still circling your clit, while the other reached back, caressing your ass, his digits getting increasingly close to your pussy. It was barely 9am and he already had you collasping underneath his touch. “Please…” you pleaded. “I want you inside me.”

His finger barely grazed your slit when you hissed, your body begging him for more. “Want?”

This kid. You suppose that’s what you get for making him beg last night. “Need…need you inside me…now.” You sounded pathetic but at this point, you were wondering what the hell he was waiting for. You were sure he wanted to be inside you too.

“Gotta get you ready for me first,” he whispered before shoving two fingers inside of you. He debated if he wanted to add a third, but decided against it - because you might explode. You held your palms against the counter so that you wouldn’t fall over, given your wobbly legs were about to give out.

“Fuck–Kook,” you mewled, and this was only his fingers for god’s sake. You could only imagine how tight you’d feel with his cock inside you.

He continued pumping his fingers a few more times before he spread your juices over his length. You were on your tiptoes, ass in the air, readying yourself for him. He rubbed the tip along your slit several times, earning a groan from you. Your gazed lifted to catch his eyes in the mirror, he smirked as he continued to edge you.

“I think you’re ready for me now,” he hummed in your ear before inserting his tip inside of you.

Whoa.

You needed to take a breath, to make sure you were actually ready for this - ready for the possible aftermath of fucking your best friend’s little brother. When he fully bottomed out, he let out a deep grunt, like he’s been waiting for this.

Fuck, it’s too late now. There’s no going back. You thought as you inhaled deeply, taking him in as best as you could. Jungkook gripped tightly onto your waist, thrusting rapidly from behind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there.”

Jungkook’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, hips repeatedly pounding into you, the sound of skin against skin resounding throughout the walls. You needed more, needed to feel all of him, so you began rolling your hips back into him.

Another cry left your mouth when he brought his hand to squeeze your breast and the other around your waist, tightening his grip on you, pumping into you faster and faster. Your eyes rolled back, and you swore you could hear a ringing in your ears.

"Just like that?" He grunted into your ear.

You hummed back and then you heard that ringing again. You weren't crazy because it was the fucking doorbell.

“Shit--what time is it?” You leaned over to grab your phone to check the time, making Jungkook unexpectedly slip out of you. He groaned at the loss of your pussy.

You told Jungkook to stay in the bathroom until you told him he could come out. Wrapped only in your towel, you went to open the door, hair still damp from the shower.

"Babe, I've been ringing your doorbell for ten minutes. What the hell are you doing?" Yuna cried as she pushed through the doorway.

"Sorry, I was taking a shower." You were hoping you didn't reek of sex.

Yuna made her way in to sit on the couch. She took one look around your living room and saw clothes everywhere. “Do you have a guy over?!” She whisper-yelled, pinching a shirt in between her fingers and moving it aside.

You clutched tighter onto your towel. “Mm maybe.”

Her eyes widened and jaw dropped, "OH MY GOD! WHO IS IT?!" She cried out, clapping her hands.

Shit. You obviously couldn't say anything, so you lied. "I--uh--I'm not ready for him to meet anyone yet.

"So, that's why you're late?" She stated, crossing her arms, leaning back onto the couch. "Okay fine, I'll forgive you because you finally have someone fucking your brains out!"

"YUNA!" You exclaimed loudly, hoping Jungkook wasn't listening in on your conversation.

She laughed. "Sorry. Okay okay. I'll just meet you at the shop then. And don't try to get a quickie in."

"You're such a buzzkill Yuna."

She came to a realization. "Oh gross–is he…is he in the bathroom?" She looked over at the closed door.

You didn't say anything but your face said it all.

Yuna pretended to gag. "Okay, I'm leaving. I'll see you soon."

You followed closely behind to lock the door. Jungkook peeked his head out from the bathroom.

"Is she gone?"

You let out a sigh of relief as you sat down on the couch. "We almost got caught. That would have been bad."

"Are you going to tell her about us?"

"There's an us?" Grinning at the half-naked man in front of you.

"Only if you want there to be."

"We'll talk about that later. I gotta go before your sister kills me." You gave him a peck before rushing off to get changed. As you came back out, he was also getting ready to leave.

"I'll see you later?"

"You really gonna leave me with blue balls?" he teased. Kidding, not kidding.

"Yes" you smirked, leaving him a peck on the cheek.

You finally arrived at the dress shop and saw Yuna walking around the store, picking a few dresses. She already had a glass of wine waiting for you.

"Did you find anything you like yet?" you asked out of breath because you were running for your life to get there on time.

"Nuh-uh. We're not talking about me today. We're talking about who you're screwing."

"Yuna!" you cried out, making sure the employees couldn't hear your conversation.

"What? I need the details. Who is he? What's his name? How did you meet him?"

She was going to be relentless if you didn't give her something. You hesitated, trying to figure out what you should say. Your heart felt like it was beating outside of your chest. If you told her the truth, she might be upset. If you didn't, then you'd be lying to your best friend, and she'd still be upset. It was a lose-lose situation.

"He's some guy I met through a colleague from work. We only recently started seeing each other."

"Do you like him?"

You smiled and nodded.

"I'm so happy for you! Is he going to be your date for the wedding then?"

Shit. You weren't thinking that far ahead.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll have to see if he's available."

"Aw. Seriously babe, I'm so happy for you. I can't wait to meet him."

You felt like such an ass lying to your best friend. You didn't know what you and Jungkook were doing...most likely just fooling around, but were there real feelings? You had to do some evaluating. Was Jungkook worth your 10+ years of friendship with Yuna?

"I guess I'll cancel that blind date with Jin then."

"Right...Yeah, I guess so."

✨ previous chapter ~ drabble - late night snacking

✨ next chapter ~ what are we doing?

#bts jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #fic: all grown up #jungkook fic #jungkook romance #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n

[yakichoufd]

Sleep deprived mind communicating with sleep deprived mind!!! Hi howdy I'm the Jhin anon again here to scream about the sketches. I got Covid for the first time yesterday and I've been miserable but oh my god the sketches are like buckets of seretonin! Your wonderful responses have given me enough confidence to come off of anon lol.

Again I agree with all of what you've said. I'm so very torn because I was a League player back in 2014 and then Arcane reawoke the love I had for the game. I thought Viktor was really cool in League, badass scientist dude! And then Arcane Viktor? I just wanna give him a hug and tell him he's gonna be okay. So I'm torn. I wanna see the Herald in all his power, but I also want Viktor to remain the absolute gem that he is.

I'm a Jhin main though, I love that angsty man. He's a fascinating character, a meticulous criminal psychopath who believes his victims are works of art. There's something about the dynamic of Jhin seeing Viktor as a work of art so priceless that he couldn't stand to kill him. And Viktor, recently struggling with the Hexcore and how he perceived Jayce's lack of understanding (refer to me crying at "Jayce will understand" followed by "I'm from the Undercity" scenes). Having Jhin by his side, admiring his work and seeing the shades of purple in Viktor's skin as splashes of watercolour rather then corruption by the Hexcore??? They could be good for each other, in their own anti-hero way.

I had to chuckle at the throuple idea with Jayce. I love Jayce, I think he's a bit of a dork (affectionately). It's likely that he'd be quite intimidated by Jhin.

Aaaaaaand again I'm just Unwell Essay Writing in your asks I'm so sorry 😂 if you do get the time, Jhin is a very complex character to look into. I hope you get some good sleep 🥰

I'm sorry you are sick and I hope you'll feel better soon! <3 I'm glad my doodles cheered you up and I really enjoy our conversation! I'm now very intrigued by Jhin and him thinking Viktor is a piece of art is very sweet! I'm looking forward to discover this character if he 'd show up in arcane!! :)

And I agree with you, Viktor must have lost so much trust in Jayce with this "they're dangerous" sentence. He thought their dream and goals were the same until this scene. I think Jayce managed to regain some trust at the end of the season (with his speech to the councilors) but I don't think Viktor would ever see Jayce as he used to (in the context that their divorce goes super slowly). Even if our dear Jayce gave independence to Zaun. i-i It took me some time to appreciate this character, he is a little bit more complex to understand than the other ones. Most of the others champions have a clear motivation and path to follow while Jayce is a little bit different imo. In act 1 he is this clever young scientist who is risking everything to prove his theory and in the other acts he just say "yes" to everyone haha! Sorry I'm talking a lot about Jayce (or Viktor) cause they're the only character that I know haha! I'm going to read Jhin lol's lore thanks to you! I hope you'll be able to sleep and feel better soon! take care <3

#viktor #jhin lol

[katsuizu-stuff]

Control Your Heart

There is one thing that is very crucial for using OFA and that is obviously controlling your heart we have seen it been said so many times from the very being when blackwhip appeared all the way up till now

So now I’m going to rant…

Izuku Midoriya is a very emotional person we have seen him being happy, sad, upset, confident, embarrassed, mad, crying, shocked, confused, honestly if you can think of any emotion we have probably already seen it on Izuku’s face

However, these emotions are intensified when it comes to Katsuki Bakugo. Katsuki isn’t just any old regular person, Katsuki is someone who Izuku holds dear.

Sure their relationship wasn’t perfect but as both Izuku and Katsuki matured they saw each other’s strength’s and weaknesses just as equally as their own strength’s and weaknesses thus making their relationship stronger accepting each other as equals and eventually as friends. Izuku never thought that a day would come were he and Katsuki could ever have a decent conversation with Katsuki but as they grew it did end up happening which made Izuku feel blessed

Now let me talk a little about the word ‘blessed’ and what I found is this (yes I used google so don’t at me, this is just a rant after all)

‘Bringing pleasure or relief as a welcome contrast to what one has previously experienced’ this definition fits Izuku perfectly the ‘…to what one has previously experienced’ that could be taken as an account that he was ‘blessed’ for meeting All Might for inheriting OFA for up until this point in the story him having end up making friends

Now…

‘Used in mild expressions of annoyance or exasperation’ this definition fits Katsuki perfectly the ‘…mild expressions of annoyance’ especially since Katsuki can get easily annoyed especially from Izuku on of them being Izuku’s mumbling and some other words are similar which ironically enough have seen Katsuki use ‘Damn’ : “Damn nerd” ‘Shitty’ : “Shitty nerd” as for ‘blasted’ and ‘flaming’ it could be easily seen as his quirk

These two examples come into play with both characters except here’s the massive difference between Izuku and Katsuki

Katsuki has come into terms with his feelings he wants to keep Izuku at arms length, he gets concerned for Izuku’s well being, he tells All Might his feeling towards Izuku, he apologizes to Izuku going as far as to say his first name ‘Izuku’ Katsuki could have said ‘Midoriya’ yet he doesn’t and goes to say ‘Izuku’

Ex.

As for Izuku he hasn’t come to terms with his own feelings towards Katsuki all the signs are there him crying and getting emotional when Katsuki got kidnapped, when he went feral when Katsuki got stabbed, how he knows how Katsuki feels, and yet he is oblivious to his own feelings he refuses to see something that’s right there in front of him

Ex.

Which feels perfect when Hori put that little input when Toga is talking about love Hori put it to make us think of one person and one person alone, Katsuki. There is no one else in the story who refers to Izuku as “Damn nerd”

Katsuki, unlike Izuku, is very observant on almost anything and I’m not lying because he was capable of putting 2 and 2 together figuring out that Izuku has All Might’s quirk with just seeing Izuku fighting and the small little hint Izuku gives him in season one

S1 Epi. 8 ‘Bakugo’s Start Line’ - “It was given to me by someone else. Recently. But I can’t tell you who I got it from, so don’t ask! Sounds crazy, I know. It’s like something out of a comic book. Only it’s real. The thing is, I don’t really have any control over this power yet. I haven’t figured out how to make it my own, but I’m trying. I’ll work until I have full control of this borrowed quirk.”

Ever since that moment Katsuki started to piece little bits and pieces together and in season three Katsuki says these words to Izuku when Katsuki walks pass him when they both passed the first round of the provisional licensing exam

S3 Epi. 56 ‘RUSH!’ - “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised with that quirk you got.” / “It looks like you’ve made that borrowed power your own.”

If Katsuki was/is capable of doing that then that means Katsuki knows Izuku’s feelings towards him and it very clearly shows in this panel

If you removed the words then all you see is Izuku’s feelings in his face which is why he started to run towards Katsuki but due to him being exhausted he falls and Katsuki catches him and that’s the moment it’s confirmed on Izuku’s feelings towards him which is why all Katsuki says is “I know” (and hopefully I would like to assume that when this scene gets animated I hope “I know” comes in a soft whisper where only Izuku can hear)

Katsuki figured it out he didn’t need Izuku to say it he saw through Izuku’s emotions/actions

To Izuku Katsuki is something more than just a childhood friend, more than just a classmate, more than a rival, more than a friend. Katsuki is Izuku’s rock, a place where Izuku feels safe, he can put his trust in, he can go to him for anything that he truly needs, all in all Katsuki is Izuku’s home.

And it goes the other way around Izuku is Katsuki’s home. Which makes Deku vs. Kacchan pt. 2 so special from the beginning up until Deku vs. Kacchan pt. 2 we have never seen Katsuki break down. We never seen Katsuki cry in such a way, we never seen Katsuki’s voice crack/break, we never seen Katsuki yell at the top of his lungs. Katsuki trusts Izuku so much to let Izuku see him break down mentally and physically.

With all this being said, it makes full on perfect sense for the previous OFA users to keep reminding Izuku to control his heart.

And with the new chapter, Ch. 367, it makes full on perfect sense for Izuku to be reminded that he needs to control his heart and the fact that Mirio said it out loud telling Izuku that everything is okay that he basically needs to keep a calm leveled head is great because if Izuku hadn’t heard it out loud then ShigAFO mission would have been a full on success.

ShigAFO mission was to get Izuku enraged so much that he can easily get everything done. Which is why ShigAFO chose to kill Katsuki because he knew, from the previous war, that it will result in the way he wanted it to go. Which also makes sense for ShigAFO to say that Katsuki is the closest thing to Izuku. He knows where to cause full on damage towards Izuku and that isn’t just physical pain, no, to cause more pain to Izuku is his emotions his feelings mainly the feelings he has for Katsuki

Anyways, that’s my bkdk rant

#izuku midoriya #bakugo katuski #bakudeku #bkdk #this honestly makes sense to me #take this as you wish #bkdk rant #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[keithisbae1]

The Mershark & Mermaid - Part 6

The young sharkling stared at the fish before her unsure where to start. “If you don’t eat you won’t grow big and strong.” Her Papa said. Even so, Sarada had never eaten a fish before. The two were in Sasuke’s home, he lived down deep in a cave where no one could bother him. It seemed quite lonely but on the plus side, they didn’t have to worry about any unexpected intruders. “It’s staring at me…” The little mershark muttered poking it. Sasuke sighed and was about to give her his piece instead until the little sharkling disappeared and brought back a bunch of seaweed. “But that’s okay, I found this.” She said placing it in a ‘bowl.’ Well that was what the humans referred it to Sakura had told him. “Does Mama make you this?” 

“Yeah, it’s my favourite.” She grinned slurping away using her claws; unfortunately, seaweed wasn’t enough for a growing sharkling. “It’ll get easier… as you get older your instincts will kick in and you won’t hesitate but to go in for the kill.” Sarada had stopped eating at that, so… she was just going to attack innocent creatures for no reason? “Is this why everyone back home is afraid of me?” She may be young but wasn’t stupid. It was obvious how different, bigger even Sarada was than merfolks. They didn’t like her clearly but it never occurred to her that they could simply… be afraid. She only had a few close friends but would never want to hurt them. “We’re predators Sarada, and they’re the prey. That’s how the world works.” If she was going to survive as a sharkling, he had to toughen her up. Otherwise, she may as well live with Sakura and at this rate neither was a great option. “But you never ate Mama, so you’re a hipocrit, Papa.” This again. “I think you mean a hypocrite.” “That’s what I said, hipocrit,” Sasuke smirked amused, for someone who talks a lot it was adorable how she pronounced certain words wrong. And he was still getting used to being called ‘Papa.’ Papa, Papa, Papa. It was like she wouldn’t stop saying it, not that he could blame her. “But Sarada won’t eat fish, I will be a fish-free shark.” 

“You really think you can decide that.” “Yup!” Such confidence. “Finish your food,” was all he responded ruffling her hair, he'll let her be for now. Sarada pouted trying to sort out her small bang. “Yo Sasuke! You in there?” 

Suigetsu? Immediately Sasuke was on high alert, as was his daughter. Sasuke told her to remain quiet as he went out to get rid of his friend, only to find another two sharks waiting. Did something happen? “What is it? I’m busy.” “Yeah, yeah. You’d rather brood alone but this is urgent. Apparently, a mermaid was spotted near the area not too long ago.” Ah, most likely Sakura. She should be back home by now though. “And get this, Neji also met one. She was looking for some bracelet or something. I’m telling you Sasuke, they’re taking advantage of us. They think we’ve gone… soft…” He wasn’t like where this going. “What’s your point?” “My point is, the next intruder who comes in should get a warning, regardless if they’re friends with pinky or not. A bite, a scratch? We’re sharks Sasuke, they are food! You can’t keep expecting us to live like this!” “I couldn't care less if you want to go ahead and kill a mermaid but leave Sakura and her friends alone. That was the deal.” At this little Sarada had peeked out to see what was going on. There were three other sharks with her Papa. A white-haired male with a white tail, his fangs were big and scary. A red-haired female with a black tail which Sarada found to be mesmerising. It wasn’t every day she got to meet a fellow female shark and her Papa was right about them growing bigger. She was twice Mama’s size, did that mean she would grow as big as well? And finally, an orange-haired male who was slightly bigger than the other two but not like her Papa, with a purple tail. Despite the size, he gave off a calming aura. 

Sarada was both intrigued but also terrified. On one claw, she really wanted to meet them, as they were friends of Sasuke so surely they wouldn’t eat her right? However, Papa had told her strictly to stay inside and warned her about the dangers.

“They're mocking us, they know we won't touch them so they keep coming back. They need to be taught a lesson.” “I think you’re the one who’s getting cocky. Would you like a reminder of what I did with your tail?” “Sasuke...” Jugo could already feel the urge to kill coming from the Uchiha so got in between for the other shark's sake.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Karin muttered to Suigetsu. “Papa you shouldn’t be threading your friends.” Sarada appeared beside him with a serious expression, once again mispronouncing her words. “Mama would not approve.” “I thought I told you to stay in the cave.” Despite the deadliness in his voice and anger, Sarada wasn't bothered, as if she was already used to it. All three sharks turned to the little sharkling who seemed remarkably like Sasuke, except for as long as they knew him Sasuke had shown no other interest besides the mermaid. “Who's she?” Suigetsu pointed to the sharkling confused. “Hi! I'm Sarada.” She was about to swim up and shake his claw but Sasuke pulled her back behind him. “Sarada.” He gave her a stern warning. 

“Sasuke... don't tell me she's...” Karin gave Sasuke a look already knowing the answer. “Shit Sasuke! Your family is going to kill her.” “Language Suigetsu!” Karin bonked him on the head and he rubbed the sore spot. “Oh come on! You can't think this is okay? I mean seriously a mermaid and mershark? It's unnatural. You could have any shark in the world Sasuke and you chose her. Even pink hair isn't natural for a mermaid.” “Hey!” Sarada swam up to Suigetsu frowning. “Mama is really pretty!” There! That will teach him and swam back beside her Papa. All whilst the white shark remained quiet, trying to process if that was meant to be a comeback. “She really taught you,” Karin smirked enjoying the baffled look on Suigetsu's face and the sharkling's smugness. “Oi, that wasn’t… don’t encourage her!” 

“I would appreciate it if you didn't insult my daughter's mother.” “Daughter's mother? So you two aren't...” Suigetsu made a motion with his arms and Sasuke twitched resisting the urge to punch him. Not in front of his daughter at least.

“I have no intention of starting such things with her again. You all keep your side of the bargain and I'll keep mine. You leave Sakura and her friends alone and I'll stay away from her.” Now Sarada was even more confused, didn't Papa say he would make it up to Mama or is he lying to protect her again? Gah, adults were so confusing. “Right.” Suigetsu didn't believe it. And neither did the other two, it was clear as day how he still harboured feelings towards the mermaid. Did they understand such feelings? Nope, but he was their friend and they only wanted what was best for him. “But is it really safe to keep her here Sasuke, your family... especially Madara? She wouldn't be safe, not mention Orochimaru.” “Karin's right, what if they find out about this Sakura?” Jugo asked, worried for the little one. She was too innocent for their world. “For now, we're sharing custody, Sarada only has to be here for as long as Sakura allows me. And if they do find out they don't have to know she's Sakura’s. As far as they're concerned she's from a random shark and by then Sarada will be a blood-thirsty-” he turned to look at his daughter only she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, they found her behind him touching a small fish's nose with her claw. “Boop! Now you boop me.” The small fish then booped its nose with hers. All four sweatdropped at the scene. 

“You are both screwed!” Suigetsu muttered, oh yes this plan was foolproof. Jugo was the first to snap out of it swimming and introducing himself to Sarada. The small fish didn't seem frightened either and happily swam around the two. 

“Do you like fishes too Mr Jugo?” Sarada's eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Uhh...” he wasn't sure how to respond without breaking her heart. 

~~~

She knew it was too risky to swim all the way out here, but Tenten had successfully snuck out and needed to find out the truth. Whatever the Uchiha was hiding, she would get to the bottom of it, Sakura deserved some closure. But how to find such a shark? The Hyuga didn’t seem too happy when she was there last time, she could always pretend to lose her bracelet again if push comes to shove. “Last time we met was here?” She swam looking around. “Or was it here… great now I got myself lost!” And she was talking to herself.

Another bonus.

“Looking for someone?” A voice startled her and she almost threw her shell weapon at him. “Aaaah, don’t startle me!” “What do you want? I’d thought you would have learnt your lesson after last time.” As polite as always. “Neji Hyuga,” Tenten stated as if she didn’t hear what he said before. His eye twitched at such disrespect. “I challenge you to a game.” “A game?” What a ridiculous request. “Yes, if I win you have to answer all my questions. All of them!” “And if I win?”And if he wins… uh she didn’t think this through. “What’s in it for me?” 

What was in it for him? “Uh… I’ll do whatever you want? Including something really embarrassing, anything.” It’s not like she would lose to him anyway. With what Tenten had in mind. The mershark tsked before swimming away.

“Enough, I don't want to indulge and get involved with you.” Go figure. Guess she'll have to hit him where it really hurts. “So, you're afraid to lose?” “You wish.” 

“Hey, that's totally fine. I mean I did beat up four sharks myself when I was in my teens so I can understand why-” “Deal.” He wasn't going to let some mermaid push him about.

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha x sakura haruno #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #sasusakufanfiction #mershark/mermaid AU #mershark Sasuke #mermaid Sakura #mershark Sarada

[sandrockianblues]

Some of our loved gang annoying each other when bored head cannons? plsss?💕👀

Let me just cuddle up to you real quick to express my adoration for you anon💜💜💜✨

I’m assuming you meant the bandit boys again, if not, feel free to correct me and I’ll make another (This is kinda long so let’s hope it’s what you asked for😭😭)

Feel free to spam my inbox with more! I’m always willing to share my head canons!!!💜 or if you just wanna talk or say something

Bandit Gang Annoying Each Other:

💣Haru💣

He always tries to busy himself with work and planning ahead (bc someone’s got to) but there are times where he just can’t keep his head buried in his work anymore or he doesn’t feel motivated to study up on the shit he needs. So, he takes it out on the boys lovingly

-Andy> at first it was sorta dumb stuff just to tweak him like wetting small shredded pieces of discarded notes and ideas he had tossed aside, throwing them at the kid until it stuck. Other times it was a blank stare and unyielding until Andy would screech at him to stop because it was freaking him out. After he finds out the kid has developed a major crush on Jasmine? “There was this one time Jasmine and I-,” “I don’t wanna hear it.” “Yeah, ya do.” Plethora of stories that Andy both loves and hates to hear because he does not like Jasmine, dammit. It’s especially more annoying when Haru tells stories of a very young Jasmine saying she’ll grow up to marry Haru or Logan someday like any other kid would do.

-Logan> literally poor fucking guy. Cowboy prince bandit here cares about his appearance because let’s face it, he and everyone else knows he’s pretty. Not Fang pretty, but roguishly handsome and solid main male lead, handsome enough to be that NFL player you suddenly get into a team for despite not knowing how football may work coughs-. So he’s a little vain and tries to take care of his appearance. And Haru abuses that. Will catch him off guard saying he’s spotted a gray hair among his strands (mind you, Logan has a head of white hair) or that his eyes seem to be dulling all of a sudden? Then there’s times where Haru tells the most outlandish science shit that’s in no way true or plausible and Logan believes it for a good part of the day week because, well, it’s his friend that’s the brainiac. But then it hits at some point and Logan always gets so bent out of shape that he’s been fooled once more. They’re so friendly with one another that they can joke about even the harder topics- so, long story short, Haru likes to claim being Howlett’s favorite. You can imagine the angry cowboy face there. Logan comes for his ass (settle down LoHaru fans, let’s keep it PG-13 and save it for fanart and fanfic). IF LOGAN IS INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER>>> 11/10 likes to reference the start of their “interactions” (I.e. Logan watching the train the builder was on come in their first day- tho really, Haru just kinda puts it together and does the math/ after Water Tower explosion and their eyes met)- essentially, anything he can use to make it seem like they’re some star-crossed lovers or living out some dramatic romance fantasy. IF HARU IS INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER TOO>>> not entirely confident he can win their heart and affections against Logan, but it’s too fun to casually remark that the builder may prefer guys who aren’t tall as hell or that have a tanner complexion or dark hair and eyes- lmao not Logan trying to figure out how to properly tan or appear shorter or even willing to dye his hair.

🦸🏼‍♂️Andy🦸🏼‍♂️

He’s a kid and a smart one at that, but his attention span is so small at this age and he gets bored so easily. He worships Logan and Haru, idolizes them even. Being a bandit was essentially his dream. So, he mostly behaved. But it’s when Sandrock accepts their bandit boys back that he starts being a little shit (Andy, my child).

-Haru> this man unnerves Andy in a different way than his buddy does. Andy wholly believes that Haru could kill him and get away with it. But it doesn’t stop him. Andy likes to disorganize his notes so they’re not in order. Will sometimes leave feedback on random sticky notes to the most obscure shit and they’re all filled with critiques (some of which are valid and actually do annoy Haru Lmao). He once saved up all his money and bought a jelly jar that was actually filled with glitter that Vivi had. Took some of Haru’s notes and from what he could do, he made a glitter bomb (it was a Thursday and Jasmine was helping Heidi organize some things so he was lonely). The fortunate part to the end of that tale is that it was mostly plain glitter so like silver. The unfortunate part is that sometimes, if you pay attention, Haru fucking shimmers. This was very distressing to Mi-An once who has found this battered but readable cringey book about vampires, but that may have been the best day of Logan’s life who laughed so hard he wheezed and had some blood vessels burst in his face. IF HARU IS INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER>>> Andy will resort to basic elementary tactics and make kissy faces that are totally visible to not just Haru and the builder, but also everyone in the vicinity. He’ll sing that “kissing in a tree” song. Walks by the guy who is trying his best to be subtle about his feelings yet attempting to flirt and going like “oh dang, tell them how u really feel” and sometimes leaning against a railing watching them from above shouting in a monotone voice “OH SHIT, THAT SOME GOOD CHEMISTRY YOU GOT THERE”- Andy’s fuckin’ fast as hell, but if you wanna see him fly, wait until he pisses one of his bandit fathers off. Kid doesn’t even touch the ground when he’s running.

-Logan> you know that pic of Ben Affleck? Nvm, you know it, I don’t even need to describe it. You know it. Homie would put his little brother/son (depends on the day and how much he wishes to throttle the tween) on a flag pole by his raggedy little cape if he could sometimes. Logan is literally the true victim between the two of his friends/found family. But in their defense, it’s just too fucking easy to rile him up. Andy will still do dumb shit like steal his hat or dress up like him like he did for Bronco the Kid, posing as Logan the Bandit and nailing down his gun twirl (chill, it’s a water gun with no water bc Sandrock is dryer than my ex’s personality) and the dramatic swish of his cape. Literally the kid was born for LARPing or Comic Cons, maybe even acting, but the world missed out. Regardless, it is some good shit. Owen even lets him recreate Bandit Gang memories on stage sometimes because he thinks the kid is a blast when he’s all dressed up (he will actually start giving the kid a “1,2,3” count if he dresses up as Bronco again), much to Logan’s dismay. If you think that is bad enough, Andy actually has Logan’s signature down almost perfectly and will sit at a little table like it’s a lemonade stand selling autographed WANTED signs of the good looking bandit (much to Unsuur’s dismay) IF LOGAN IS INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER>>> Andy will abuse his height, his speed, and Logan’s patience. Homie will yeet himself into either Logan’s back or the builder’s and make them fall into each other as he takes off cackling and screaming about PDA. Now, Logan is a chill guy and recognizes it as both manipulation and a somewhat accident, but it’s the fact that this is the fifth time the cheeky bastard has schemed this week and at some point, the builder has to catch onto why Andy’s doing it to the two of them specifically. He WILL intentionally leave WANTED posters of Logan on their front door or workshop table or in their mailbox. No, please don’t ask Unsuur about this. He’s fucking done with the posters.

🤍Logan🤍

Logan was someone that felt like he had to grow up a little too fast to help his father deal with raising him alone and hunting monsters. His only reprieve from that maturity and the weight of the world on his shoulders was spending time with friends like Haru or Elsie or Jasmine, etc. There, the rascal like side of him poked out. Logan is the man of action and the one to carry out missions. He’s not big on planning, so, when there’s no mission to carry out and no action to be doing, he’s gonna have some fun.

-Andy> to the Logan simps out there, y’all better pray the builder and him have a daughter because Logan is much GENTLER and CAREFUL with girls (don’t think about the fight y’all have if you a girl). He will swoop down with far too much agility for a man his size and grab Andy by the ankles with one hand, standing upright and flipping the kid upside down in his hold. Isn’t above shaking him to see how much candy and stuff he nabs (literally no one cares and they just pretend to not see because it’s minimal shit) falls out. Or he ruffles his hair and messes it up completely. Sometimes, he’ll sit down with the kids (no chair is too small for him- that’s a lie, every chair is too small for him. Just look at his weird ass throne.) and asks whether he’ll be the main of honor or the best man to their wedding. He’s not above his bandit ways and WILL demand a dowry for his precious Princess Jasmine.

-Haru> they go back and sometimes, that’s not a good thing. Logan knows exactly how to annoy Haru. It’s just when he decides to find new ways that Haru gets nervous. Like after the Mi-An incident where she thought he was a vampire, Logan spent money on glitter himself that he kept in his pocket and would randomly throw it like confetti in the air with an emotionless face, watching it rain down on Haru with glee burning like the blue flames of a fire. Or when he actually borrowed Mi-An’s book so he could read it (he honestly hates it, nothing makes sense and he almost abandoned the idea numerous times) and WILL quote it at him. Haru hasn’t read it, but at this point he essentially has given how Logan took this way too seriously and is passionate about giving him shit. Sometimes, Logan will idly remark about being sick of shit and wanting to run away. Which annoys Haru because “been there, done that”. Not letting Haru sit in his weird throne actually annoys him but for the principle, not because Haru really wants to sit there. Logan also likes to remark about how smart Qi is and wonders if his bombs would be more effective. Then there are times where they’re just meandering about riding their steeds and Logan will go off on this near philosophical and rather introspective tangent that takes Haru by surprise, going to respond to Logan only to be met with “I was talking to Rambo.” 💀 IF HARU IS INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER >>> Logan is both the best and worst person to have as your wingman. I don’t make the rules (yes I do ). He’ll give him openings to make his move, he’ll set up the scene perfectly like this is mere child’s play to him (it’s odd, the things Logan chooses to be good at), hell, he may even pay for their dinner. But then there are times where they’re having a nice date and Logan will all of a sudden stretch over the divider wall of the booth with a harsh and loud whisper of “diD YoU kiSS ‘eM YEt?!” He is both a himbo and a child. IF LOGAN IS ALSO INTERESTED IN THE BUILDER>>> if it was anyone else, he’d be pulling out all the stops to win the builder over. But with Haru, all he can do is poke lighthearted fun at his height or how he’s missing a duster or a cowboy hat. Sometimes a “is your heart a ticking bomb? What’re you swearing for?” sort of shit to tease him.

#siren speaking #Mtas #Sandrock #my time at sandrock #Pathea #Mtas head canons #Sandrock head canons #Mtas Logan #Mtas Andy #Mtas haru #Sandrock Logan #Sandrock haru #Sandrock Andy #Mtas owen #Mtas Jasmine #Mtas mi-an #Mtas Unsuur #Sandrock Unsuur #Sandrock owen #Sandrock Jasmine #Sandrock Heidi #Sandrock Vivi #Mtas Vivi #Logan the bandit #Logan x builder #haru x builder #bandit gang #Mtas builder #Sandrock builder #anon ask

[thebiscuiteternal]

for the writing jam, maybe nhs confiding in or confessing to lan qiren?

Hmmmmmmm.

I am thinking perhaps that if he were to mention any of his suspicions/issues with his brother's death, it would be in such oblique terms that only after Everything Goes Down At Guanyin Temple does Lan Qiren have a "...Hold up." thought.

Pretending to just be idly gossiping about literally anything wouldn't work, since Lan Qiren would likely shut that down quick, so perhaps he couches it as references to a new novel he's been reading. A proper political drama/horror story taking place in a foreign court, not the sort of thing he used to smuggle for his fellow juniors during classes. He even has fake dialogue and scene descriptions in his head for further authenticity, spinning a tale of murder for ambition and what retribution must be sought.

It really is a very good story, very beautifully constructed, Huaisang says. He'll be more than happy to lend the book if Lan-xiansheng wishes, and then they can discuss the merits of it more.

Though he admits it does sound intriguing, the kind of story he would have enjoyed reading before... everything, Lan Qiren, of course, reminds him that even if he is no longer having to act as interim leader, he still has enough duties that he can't fritter away afternoons reading such things, and Nie Huaisang shouldn't have that kind of time either.

Nonetheless, he does wind up occasionally fielding and answering Huaisang's questions and commentary about the characters and plot, which seem far too insightful for the drunken, dramatic mess the Nie sect leader makes whenever he appears in public, but Lan Qiren chalks that up to the same issue Huaisang has always had about never bothering to apply himself to serious things, just whatever has his interest at the moment.

After Jin Guangyao's fall and the wedding of one nephew and the emotional fracturing of the other, he finds himself re-reading those little notes and putting the pieces together.

Perhaps he should feel angry or guilty that Nie Huaisang had placed all the pieces on the board and yet he hadn't recognized the game being played until after it was over, but instead he can't help but be a little ruefully impressed that Nie Huaisang had finally applied himself to something very serious indeed.

He considers burning the notes, but doesn't, packing them away in the depths of more mundane correspondence for reasons he can't quite put a name to.

The topic of the 'novel' never comes up again.

#will he maybe give those notes to xichen in the future? #idk idk idk #mdzs #nie huaisang #lan qiren #ideas #sorry i couldn't make fic out of this one

[chocolate-teapots]

He’s Soft: Dinger Holfield

                          ━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

                   Joel had a lot to say about you now you weren’t there.

                                  And Dinger didn’t like it one bit. 

                         ━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Warnings: swearing, the world faggot, homophobia, bullying, references to violence, mentions of sex, jealous Dinger. 

I was clutching my books realising how no one had bumped shoulders with me since I was seen with my new friends.

I even sped up a little, whistled made extreme eye-contact and no one dared look my way just in case one of the guys found out. Some of the girls even stared at me in admiration to have such boys looking out for me constantly. They were always just that one step behind me but also in front.

Sidney, a girl from my English ran up to me calling my name to make me stop. Poor thing looked like she'd been running for hours. Her hair was dishevelled and her face was as red as her shoes.

"What's up, Sid?" I continue cruising by her side.

"Didn't you hear what happened at lunch today?" she started poking my arm, expecting me to know something that I shouldn't.

There was probably a fight that I didn't care enough about to bother witnessing. Nothing happened today.

"Oh my! Did people eat?"

She slaps my arm.

"No silly. There was an outburst between Joel and Dinger. I don't know the full story but Sheila told Betty that Joel was saying bad things about what he wanted to do to you and Robin told Tom, Cameron's friend, that Dinger totally was there for you and put that asshole in his place."

"What!"

----

half-hour earlier

"Hey, Bobby, Joel."

Dinger sat down next to Bobby and Joel. They seemed to be deep in discussion with each other. Dinger didn't really want to interfere but the worried face of his new friend was in his mind, telling her constantly that she deserves better.

"How're things with Y/N Joel?" he asks, squinting at the sun in his eyes and spitting his name next to yours as if it was poison.

Bobby turned in Joel's direction, agreeing with his friend's question with the same curiosity.

"Yeah Joel, how are things?"

Did Bobby know something he didn't? His heart began to race and fist began to tighten.

Joel took a second to contemplate, chuckling with a scoff to himself. Things weren't looking so good already at this point to Dinger and he wondered if there was a missing piece to this puzzle that Y/N or Joel or even Bobby wasn't telling him.

"Well it's just, I'm a guy you know and things are just so- lacking. All this romance shit is tearing me to pieces. And she's so hot I just wanna grab her and... you know?"

Dinger sat up a little on the wall, Bobby searching his face for the same reaction.

"No Joel, I don't think I do know."

Joel was looking for confidence as his friends were staring at him in a way that he was intimidated by. He knew that he was doing something wrong but Dinger didn't have to know and he didn't really understand why it was so wrong in the first place.

"Sorry to interrupt but I believe you're being a little vague to Dinger Joel, you know one of Y/N's new buddies?"

He turns to his dearest friend, whose worried face contrasted with his crazy carefree red locks.

"Dinger, Joel was just telling me that he wants to use Y/N so hard until she cries. He wants to- what was it? Grab her hair and swing her around like a pinwheel? Want her to do as she's told just to show all the other guys and girls who's boss. Isn't that right, Joel?"

Joel was white, hearing his own words from Bobby's smart-ass mouth was like a punch in the stomach, like a badly remembered memory and it turned him sick to his stomach. Of course, he wanted all those things but in this group, you were always told never to speak your mind no matter how fucked it was.

Dinger looks at Joel in disgust, more than Bobby somehow even though his eyebrows here down to his dirty socks. He continued to sit, manspreading like there was no tomorrow and seeing only blurry red smudged everywhere in his vision.

"How dare you be so fake to somebody only to say things so disgusting and god damn awful behind their back? You're an airhead Joel. I warned Y/N but I don't know what you've said to her but she has somehow come to think the sun shines outta your asshole. You and I both know that is total bullshit man. Major."

Joel goes to speak.

"I don't wanna hear a god damn fucking thing you have to say because I know it's all from your dick and not from your heart or even your head. I will make sure- no I'll promise that she never trusts you again. Later."

He goes to leave but not before whispering to none but himself:

"Is there any love left in our universe?"

Joel grows a pair, finally planning and editing the words he wants to say to win this battle and keep his crown just for the next few days even

"You what, faggot?"

Time seemed to stop for every single member of that friendship group. The yard went silent and all you could hear were the sudden gulps of a dozen teenagers riding out the wave of suspense.

"Faggot? I'm a faggot for having feelings Joel and respect? If that makes me a faggot then consider me the all singing all dancing faggot of the fucking universe," he snaps, head moving, hands throwing, teeth-gritting.

Dinger Holfield was present.

"How are you so different then huh? I'm sure a million bitches at this school would gladly announce how played they were by Mr Dinger Holfield."

"I didn't love any of those women Joel. If I loved a woman- if I loved Y/N I would take her out only when she wanted, spoil her if she needed, let her be an independent woman. Wait for everything until she was ready. I would never rush her into anything because why? Because I'm a decent guy at the best of times. I fight, talk shit, do shit but I am not a shit."

"Now, later."

---

I did try to find Dinger but at the same time I was pissed at both of them

Who was Joel to own me like that?

Who was Dinger to decide my life like that?

I needed to take a chill pill so I just went home. And, it was really working until the doorbell rang.

At the other end of the chipped paint was a worried-looking redhead who looked as long he hadn't blinked, ate, talked since 'the incident'. I didn't know what to say and neither did he so we both just leaned against the doorframe, gazing at each other but my glare was a little stronger.

"Have you got anything to say for yourself?"

He was taken aback as if a wind inside my house had blown him off of the step.

"Me? Are you kidding? What side of the story did you hear?"

"The right version, now tell me how is this any of your business at all?" I asked, a little hurt in my voice as I realised that someone was trying to control me like a third possessive parent that I didn't need today.

"What's your damage Y/N I'm sick of seeing him treat you like that. I can't hide my hurt anymore every time he grabs your chin to kiss you or glares at guys when they ask you for help with their homework. It's sick demented shit. And, I can't hide the fact that I love you anymore either," he mumbles the last part, declining in confidence suddenly.

I laugh in my place, sounding too much like Joel at one point. He shrinks twice in size.

"Oh please, you don't even know what that means Holfield. It's too late anyway, I'm going with Joel," I cross my arms, trying to pull myself from the fantasy of my life together with Dinger.

How different my life would be if I was going with Dinger.

"I won't beg you into loving me but don't waste your life on an asshole like him, for me. I'm not always right but I know this time I really do, I know what I'm talking about. Guys like them just hit it and quit Y/N," he gets closer to me, his puff of hair finally taller than me.

I lift my eyebrows, that lifestyle was copied and pasted into that entire friendship group. Who was he to judge? Why was he so god damn special?

"Isn't this a little hypocritical?"

"What? No! I only hang out with chicks- women, that know what they're signing up for. They're not being played, they know what's happening."

"How am I any different, how do I know this isn't some kind of move to steal me off of Joel?"

"Is it working?"

Seriously?

"No, you're not being vulnerable or truthful enough to me," my arms cross harder, scared of the rest of the lies he'd unleash upon me and how ready I was to believe them.

Dinger was the bad guy and not Joel.

"I'm a virgin."

Proving his devotion he turns around to the watchers in the street shouting at the top of his lungs and pointing to himself.

"Virgin! Virgin right here. Soy virgen! Dinger Holfield is a virgin!"

I laugh into my hand, and people in the street turn to a red-faced and haired Dinger to look at him. He takes the next step up to the door frame, eyelashes tickling my own we were so close.

"Listen to me. You can listen, leave Joel and be happy with a guy who loves you for you. Or, you can give me a shot and if you hate it I will leave you alone and never come back."

He gulps at the thought alone and what made tears prick my eyes was that at that same time, i gulped too. Despite knowing him for only a few months, I couldn't imagine a school day without him, never mind an eternity.

I cry at the monster that I've been wasting so many things on, the first kiss, first real handholding, first date, first makeout, first skipping of school. I hung my head low, tears hitting the grime of the boy's boots in front of me. When I think about it Dinger has given me the warmest welcome to the school, introduced me to all his friends the day he almost knocked me over in the hallway, carried my books, listened to my concerns and told me what I should do only for my own sake.

His finger tickles my chin, bringing my saddened eyes to his beautiful ones. He smiles knowingly, not in an I-told-you-so way but in a way I could not explain.

"May I?" he asked.

"Yes."

He tilts his head, leaning in as if I'm made of slightly shattered glass. Although I'd done it before, it felt like the first time all over again and I felt my hold of his waist slacking and trembling. Checking again in my eyes and dragging his gaze from my lips, he sees the want in my eyes and connects our lips. We're standing on a doorstep, in a world full of dirty shame and dirty people having an innocent and pure moment.

An older man and lady observed from across the street, smiling in each other's embrace as they recalled their older memories together and the years they had spent in complete bliss.

"Remember our days like that? They were the best times, still are."

#80s movie #80s imagines #dream a little dream #dinger holfield #corey haim #corey feldman

[thelovebug]

transracial adoptee escaping abusive home situation

When I was 17 years old, I was being driven home by my father. A woman was jogging passed the car and he made a comment that really stuck with me, and reminded me where I was and what my role was in life. He mentioned how she looked as dark as a nigger. It made me think of what he saw me as, although I knew this wasn’t the first instance where a comment was made about my race. Whether it be about me or about someone else. I remember hearing, “how are you black yet you can’t dance” or him wanting to call a person he was arguing with a nigger. Everyday when I enter the kitchen, I am greeted with a set piece that features blackface. The microaggressions are too much for me, I was subjected to ruthless racism and hatred throughout my entire school career by my white classmates, and they did not move a budge to help me or support me. I’ve been in poor health since I was an infant, and I am grateful for them taking care of me but using my sick moments as a “gotcha” moment or to guilt trip me over showing emotions of anger or sadness. Constantly telling me how good I have it and I should be grateful. I was threatened and subjected to physical violence as a child, which stopped once I made it clear I would not hesitate to call 911 now that I was old enough to do so. If my father is not ragefully screaming, talking down to, or calling me a communist because I don’t like what he likes or agree with everything he says. My mother is insulting me or putting me through emotional incest because the man she decided to marry doesn’t care to be that stand in anymore. She is narcissist who would rather die than apologize for letting me get sexually abused and bullied. She calls me a pig, a monster, tiring, annoying, a whiner, a drug addict. A drug addict after I confided in her about how pot relieves my joint pain and felt like she needed to know I use it in the house sometimes, because I didn’t want to lie to her even though she lies to me every other day. Just recently she added on more trauma and resentment I have towards her when she stole from my savings account and said she didn’t feel bad about it. This is supposed to be my MOTHER. 

I have taken care of her and my father when they are sick or just don’t feel like contributing to the day. When she is ill she goes to me, I take her blood, as a kid I would rub her back and feet, when she’s confused or doesn’t know what to do, she asks ME for help. When my father was in the hospital because of his own stupidity and ignorance towards his health, she felt more inclined to take care of him, a man who once referred to her as a fat bitch, right in front of me as a child than her kids. When I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was 12, the hospital staff taught her how figure out dosages, which eventually she would have to teach me. This did not happen, and even when I asked to be taught, she said she forgot. It wasn’t until I asked my new doctor to teach me again, that I figured it out but because of my own stubborness, I didn’t ask until I was 18. The older I got the more I felt ignored, hated, and their resentment towards me grew. They resented any thought or plea from me about wanting to know my family history or when I wanted to connect more with my culture or community, my mom even refused to let me see black friends. They make fun of my bonnet, the way I sound, talk, what I know, what I don’t know. I never got know my culture, I want to wear braids, I want to listen to black artists and gush over them, I want to love myself freely and without shame. I want to be gay, I want to have a girlfriend, I want to explore my gender. I just want to be free. I can’t stay in the same house I was touched and abused in anymore. My job isn’t giving me any shifts, and I’m still searching for one that will work around my disabilities and I can get to within a 10 mile radius. My father is the only one who can give me transportation but he is an awful driver who gets into frequent accidents, and has driven drunk on multiple occasions and gave me the rule that to work, the location has to be within 10 miles. I am at the end of the road at this point, if I can’t get a car for myself (since I’m not allowed to drive despite having a license) then I feel like I will die here. I do not have external family due to adoption, and I do not trust either sides of my parents extended family. 

I feel like the system has failed me. Because of some random lawyer or social worker, I was placed here when I was still in infancy, with a family who I feel I can personally never call my true family. Family does not subject their kids to things I have been through. I would’ve rather been aborted than born at all if this was gonna be my future. I don’t know and will never know my real mom or dad and there aren’t any ways to fix this, my original birth certificate was altered. I started this GFM so I can start again, to have a life before it’s too late. I’m only 20 and I turn 21 next month but I feel physically and mentally exhausted to the point where I feel my chest ache and can’t move. Even if you can’t donate please share my story and I want everyone to know that transracial adoption is harmful, anti-black, painful and the silence concerning it is deafening and I will never forgive the adults who decided to put me in this position before I could even speak. 

#transracial #transracial adoption #transracial adoptee #blm #gofundme #emergency aid #abuse #verbal abuse #physical abuse #adoption